ã€ŠDragonsbaneã€‹


 Echoes of a Mistake

    ¡äI didn''t ask for this.''

    The phrase echoed in my mind, repeating itself like a useless mantra, but it gave me some form of comfort. It wasn''t a common phrase, nor was it uncommon. It simply wasn¡¯t something I would say in a moment of anger or frustration. No, this was my reality now.

    ¡®But¡­ Why did this have to happen to me?¡¯

    ¡®I had no other choice.¡¯

    The words left me with a weight I couldn¡¯t ignore. It was an empty answer, devoid of strength, as if I were trying to justify something that couldn¡¯t be justified.

    "Why did you do what you did?" The voice cut through my thoughts. It was strange, a voice that had always been warm, but now it spoke to me coldly, full of fury, yet I could still hear a certain pain hidden in its tone.

    I stayed silent for a moment, the words stuck in my throat. There was nothing to say. I knew there was no turning back. It had already been done.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t ask for this,¡¯ I thought again, trying to find comfort in the repetition. But deep down, I knew the only thing left was to move on.

    "Answer me. Why did you kill him!"

    The voice demanded an explanation, but I had none. The emptiness inside me grew with each word, as if it were impossible to escape this situation. I stared at the floor, trying to gather the strength to speak, but nothing came. The weight of what I had done crushed me more with every passing moment.

    ¡®Back then¡­ if I hadn''t said, my opinion¡­¡¯

    I sighed, a low, empty sound that got lost in the heavy silence of the room.

    ¡®No, nothing would change.¡¯ A self-mocking smile appeared on my face, almost like an attempt to hide what I truly felt.

    The words were stuck in my throat, a meaningless confession, but one I knew to be true. What would happen if I explained? What would it change now, after everything that had already happened?

    "You dare to laugh in this situation?" Another voice echoed, different from the first. Its tone was laden with anguish and sadness, as if each word were a blade cutting the soul.

    "Why, even in this situation¡­ you¡­"

    The voice dragged on, as if it were fighting against a pain far greater than anything else.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t ask for this¡­¡¯ I thought again, but this time, the phrase no longer brought any comfort. It was just a distant echo of something I could no longer reach.

    I wanted to scream, wanted to give an answer, anything that would free me from this growing pain. But all I could do was laugh at myself, as if the irony of the situation was the only thing left to me.

    "Why are you doing this?" My own voice came out weaker than I expected. I didn¡¯t even know who I was addressing anymore.

    The room around me seemed to distort, the walls closing in as I sank deeper into that sea of guilt and regret.

    "DO YOU STILL HAVE THE AUDACITY TO QUESTION US?" Another voice echoed from the shadows. I dared not raise my head to face. At the same time, footsteps were heard, and a punch was directed at my face, but it wasn¡¯t enough to send me flying.

    "We made a promise. It was supposed to¡­ all of us¡­"

    A fourth voice sounded. Unlike the others, this one was laden with helplessness and despair. There was no fury in its tone, but paradoxically, it was the one that pierced my soul the most.

    After its words echoed, only a deep silence remained. A dense emptiness, filled with bitter solitude and suffocating despair, took over the room, hitting me painfully.

    I could feel the frustration in that voice, as if it were trying to hold on to the fragments of something that had already been destroyed. It was like the pain of betrayal was an injury that couldn¡¯t be healed.

    I wanted to respond. I wanted to justify myself, but, just like before, the words were stuck in my throat, choking any attempt at salvation.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t ask for this,¡¯ I thought one more time, but the repetition no longer made any sense. It was just an empty echo, like the very emptiness that filled the space.

    The shadows surrounding me seemed to draw even closer, as if they were about to swallow everything that was left of me.

    "Enough, our voices will never reach him," the second voice stated, trying to bring some form of calm to the chaos that had taken over.

    "NO, HE HAS TO SPEAK. HE HAS TO ANSWER!" The third voice, once again, became agitated. This time, the voice approached with rapid, heavy footsteps, and in a swift motion, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, shaking me violently.

    "Answer me, #########, no, ######!" The voice trembled with rage, and a sense of claustrophobia washed over me. It mixed with desperation, as if each word were a rope tightening further around my neck.

    "Look us in the eyes and answer! WHY? JUST WHY? DAMN IT!"

    That aggressive tone, filled with suffering, pierced through any remaining resistance I had. But what could I answer? How could I justify the unjustifiable?

    ¡®I didn¡¯t ask for this,¡¯ I thought, but the phrase seemed even more distant, emptier than ever.

    My body trembled, not from physical pain, but from a profound emptiness I couldn¡¯t fill. Each word, each scream, sank deeper into me, as if I were trapped in a prison of my own making.

    I could no longer run. The voices, the shadows, the pain... they all surrounded me relentlessly.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    "You¡­ you¡­ promised me! You said you¡­ you said¡­"

    Her voice faltered, interrupted by sobs that echoed in the oppressive silence around us. I could feel her pain in every pause, the vulnerability in her voice crashing into me like waves, hitting me mercilessly.

    Strangely, those broken words were what finally pulled me from my trance. For the first time, I allowed myself to look around, to face the reality that had unfolded before me. And then my eyes locked onto her.

    I lowered my gaze, seeing her small, fragile body before the "giant" holding me by the shirt collar, shaking me as if trying to force an answer. But it was her who truly disarmed me.

    Her delicate face, so different from the strength of her words, was completely consumed by pain. Her eyes, brighter and deeper than lapis lazuli, overflowed with tears that silently fell and vanished into the ground. That sight was like a final blow, breaking down any barrier I still tried to maintain.

    Pain, guilt, and desperation mixed into something unbearable, and a sense of helplessness overwhelmed me.

    I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of everything I carried inside. With titanic effort, I gripped the wrist still holding me by the collar, using all the strength I had left.

    And then, I shouted.

    "ENOUGH! YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? FINE, I¡¯LL TELL YOU WHY!"

    My voice reverberated through the room, filled with raw anger, anger I didn¡¯t even know still existed inside me. I was tired, exhausted from carrying all the answers that no one, not even I, wanted to hear.

    "Because I... I was trying to live. We all were. I was trying to protect everyone. No one else could do what had to be done, and I was the only one with the courage to go all the way! I saw the naked, brutal reality! I saw what the world really is¡­ and I did what I had to do!"

    The words poured out in a torrential flood, an outpouring that consumed me as I spoke. Each syllable felt heavy, and the weight of those words made my body tremble.

    "And I¡­ I am the only one to blame for all of this!"

    ¡®Yes, I am the only one to blame¡­¡¯

    "I wanted to protect us all."

    "No one asked for this, I know." I sighed sarcastically, a bitter laugh escaping my lips, as if that confession were just another cruel irony of fate.

    ¡®Yes, no one really asked for it.¡¯

    "But... would you be able to handle it if I told you one of us betrayed us? One of us wanted our end? One of us longed for the destruction of everything we built? One of us¡­ One of us went mad? That one of us went mad, and the only option was to end their life?"

    ¡®Maybe they would, but... too bad we¡¯ll never know.¡¯

    My voice, heavy with helplessness and frustration, reverberated through the room. Each word felt like a blow, not just against those listening, but mostly against myself. I knew nothing would change. I knew the wounds I¡¯d caused would never be healed. Still, I felt the need to speak, to expose the truth that suffocated me, even if it was pointless.

    "At least this way, maybe I can relieve a little of my pain."

    That was the lie I told myself, an empty comfort in the midst of the storm. Inside, I was erupting. Emotions piled up, pressing against me, exploding in waves I could barely contain. The weight of it all was crushing, suffocating, as if an entire world was on my shoulders.

    What more was there to say? How could I justify the unjustifiable? There were no easy answers, only the black abyss of my guilt, growing and spreading with every passing second, consuming everything around it.

    After my words, an absolute silence filled the room. For an entire minute, no one dared to speak. Time seemed to stretch, each second turning into an eternity.

    Then, breaking the silence, the first voice spoke again. This time, I could look directly into it¡äs eyes.

    "######... You¡­ You never even¡­ gave us that chance."

    Their face, paler than usual, was full of sadness, pity, and disappointment, but strangely, it¡äs voice was warm, completely different from their previous cold state. I could see myself in the reflection of their golden eyes, as if the mirror of it¡äs expression reflected all the emptiness I carried inside me.

    ¡®Pitiful,¡¯ I thought, as I gazed at my pathetic state, and the weight of their words sank into my chest.

    I didn¡¯t know how to respond. What could I say? How could I defend my actions when the reality of everything I¡¯d done seemed to spill over me, turning every excuse into something pitiful?

    "You never even gave us the chance to do anything..." It continued, the pain and disappointment in it¡äs eyes cutting into me like a sharp blade.

    ¡®And what could you have done?¡¯ I wanted to scream, but for some reason, as soon as the words opened, my mouth snapped shut again.

    What was left, after all, besides shame and loss?

    ¡®Maybe... if I¡­ Forget it #####, it''s just delusions of something that will never see the light of this world.¡¯ My mind was a wreck, filled with regret, but also with an unrepentant attitude for the decisions I had made.

    What was left for someone who knew they couldn¡¯t go back, but still tried to justify the unjustifiable?

    "Not to mention, because of this, ###### died too," the third voice said, looking directly into my eyes.

    Those words were like a punch to the stomach, and even though I had already been carrying that fact, hearing it again, so brutally, made the weight of the guilt unbearable.

    I already knew, of course. I knew that their death was one of the inevitable costs of this chain of choices and betrayals, but hearing it like this, directly, turned the sorrow into something even more painful.

    The second voice approached me and, with pity, stared into my eyes.

    ¡°You know #####, I don¡¯t blame you for ######''s death, I believe it¡¯s the same with the others, maybe.¡±

    Their expression hardened, and with fury and helplessness, they continued. ¡°But yes, for the fact that you kept it all this time, for the fact that you didn¡¯t trust us, when you always claimed we should trust you. For the fact that you didn¡¯t say a single word when it involved all of us.¡±

    ¡°###### made a mistake... a huge, impossible mistake. But... #####, you made a bigger one.¡±

    His face was set with an expression I had never seen before, their green eyes emanating a mixture of pity and melancholy, combined with fury and helplessness.

    ¡°#####, you killed one of us, and caused the death of another,¡± the third voice cut in, its brown eyes and robust face clashing with the pain and despair that shone through their tone and expression. As they set me back on the ground and released my collar, they continued, ¡°And that¡­ that can¡¯t be erased.¡±

    I swallowed hard, trying to find words, but my throat felt dry. What could I say? That it was all a mistake? That the intentions were good, but the actions failed? There were no more excuses, no justifications that made sense.

    What remained was only the echo of a name and the memory of an irreparable loss.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want this¡­ it wasn¡¯t supposed to be this way...¡± My voice faltered, and the words evaporated into the air.

    ¡®Yes, I really didn¡¯t want... this to happen,¡¯ I thought, the pain of admitting that consuming every part of me.

    ¡°But it¡¯s what happened,¡± the third voice interrupted, striking my face with more force, now cold and solemn. ¡°And it¡¯s what you¡¯ll have to live with.¡±

    ¡®I didn¡¯t ask for this.¡¯ One last time, the phrase echoed in my mind, so close now, yet still distant.

    ¡®Where did it all go wrong?¡¯ My mind, still reeling from the events, turning over my memories, replaying my actions and the crime I had committed.

    ¡®Ah, it must have been when we...¡¯ Decided to leave that day.

    ¡®Who would have imagined¡­ that such a decision¡¯ Would lead us to death.

 A Beautiful Autumn Morning (1)

    It was a beautiful autumn morning in Oxford, and the city was bathed in the golden softness of the season. The trees, like artists wielding vibrant brushes, were draped in shades of orange, red, and yellow. Their warm-hued leaves swayed lazily to the rhythm of a cool breeze that meandered through the city¡¯s narrow, quiet streets. The air was rich with the earthy scent of damp soil and dried leaves, while the morning mist, like a thin blanket, slowly began to lift. The first rays of sunlight pierced through, touching the facades of old buildings and the surrounding fields, making the city seem to stir gently, as if the very atmosphere were breathing a tranquil, welcoming peace. The sound of students¡¯ footsteps echoed on the cobbled sidewalks, blending with the distant hum of conversations that slowly began to fill the space as Oxford gradually awakened to yet another day.

    I had just left the library after returning, for the fifth time, the books my friends had simply forgotten. They were dangerously close to their due dates, and, as always, I¡ªhaving somehow been deemed the ¡°keeper¡± of our little borrowed collection¡ªhad taken it upon myself to complete the task, yet again. Despite my annoyance at the situation, I couldn¡¯t help but smile.

    ¡°I really am a good friend,¡± I thought, half-skeptical but amused by the whole ordeal.

    ¡°They¡¯re definitely buying me breakfast today¡ªno excuses.¡± I grinned, already thinking about where I should stop for a bite.

    Autumn had always been my favorite season¡ªwhen the city turned into a vibrant painting, its colors absorbing the calm and stillness of the surroundings. It was as if time itself stretched out, letting me breathe a little deeper, savoring the serenity and slower pace of life. Each step felt more deliberate, more reflective, while the dry leaves crackled beneath my feet, like a silent melody keeping pace with my walking rhythm.

    As I strolled through the quiet streets, I headed toward the house my friends and I rented to live together. In truth, it was Elizabeth and Benjamin¡ªhaving arrived first¡ªwho rented the massive house, assuming we would all end up living together sooner or later. I still remember the first time I stepped into it; the impact was immediate. The photos had impressed me, but nothing compared to seeing it in person. The house was grander than I had imagined, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit small, overwhelmed by its sheer size. It was a different feeling¡ªone that only someone experiencing the present moment could truly understand.

    As I neared the front door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Elizabeth. ¡°Dalton! Good morning and joy!¡± she exclaimed. Her voice sounded more cheerful than usual, which made me think that something good must have happened while I was at the library.

    "Good morning, Liz. Judging by your tone, it sounds like something good happened, right?" I replied, smiling, even though I had no idea what could have her so excited. Liz rarely showed this kind of enthusiasm, and today it was obvious something special was going on. After all, it was an autumn morning, and Oxford seemed to have awakened with a different glow, as if the very atmosphere hinted at good news.

    "As expected of you, Dalton¡ªalways so perceptive," she replied, her excitement palpable. "Yes, something great happened! Midori sold one of her artworks for an absurdly high price!" The joy in her voice was contagious, and I couldn¡¯t help but grin. After all, one person¡¯s success was everyone¡¯s success. When we decided to live together, one of the most important unwritten rules we established was just that: whenever one of us achieved something, it was cause for celebration for all. Sure, there were exceptions, but for the most part, that¡¯s how we worked.

    "It¡¯s a bit impolite to share everything over the phone," Liz continued, her voice tinged with mystery. "But to celebrate, we¡¯ve decided to check out a new restaurant that just opened. The reviews say it¡¯s fantastic."

    A deep voice, one I recognized instantly, interrupted her in the background with a teasing tone.

    "Tell him if he¡¯s late, we¡¯re starting without him."

    It was Carlos, with his usual irreverent sense of humor¡ªbut of course, we all knew he wasn¡¯t joking. When it came to food, Carlos always had the final say.

    "Well, you heard him, didn¡¯t you? See you soon, and don¡¯t be late!" Liz wrapped up the call in her usual upbeat and carefree manner. I laughed to myself as I slid my phone back into my pocket, already picturing them waiting for me while I hurried to make it on time.

    "Well, I can¡¯t dawdle," I said out loud, mostly to myself, as I turned toward the road, deciding to walk. But just as I started taking a few steps, a thought flashed through my mind.

    ¡®She didn¡¯t tell me where the restaurant is.¡¯

    I sighed, pulling my phone back out of my pocket and quickly typing a message to Liz, asking for the location of this mysterious restaurant. It wasn¡¯t unusual for her to forget important details in the heat of her excitement. We all had our quirks when it came to handling the little oversights of daily life, but what mattered was that she was happy¡ªand I wanted to be part of the celebration. Plus, they still owed me breakfast.

    As soon as I sent the message, I resumed my walk through the quiet streets of Oxford. The cool autumn air and the soft scent of earth and dry leaves surrounded me as the sunlight began to stretch across the city. Each step, accompanied by the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, filled me with a sense of lightness, even as the urgency to not be late propelled me forward.

    A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a response.

    "Ah! The restaurant is ¡®Le Jardin D¡¯Or,¡¯ on the main street near the central square. You can¡¯t miss it, it¡¯s pretty famous around here. Hurry up before Carlos eats everything!" She added a laughing emoji followed by a winking face.

    I chuckled quietly, imagining the scene¡ªCarlos, fork already in hand, ready to devour everything before I even arrived. His appetite always took priority over any conversation, and I could already picture him poring over the menu, fantasizing about conquering every dish in sight.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    "Of course I¡¯ll hurry!" I replied quickly, picking up my pace toward the restaurant. Liz¡¯s energetic tone always managed to lift my spirits. "And don¡¯t even think Carlos can finish everything without me!"

    <hr>

    A few minutes later, seated in a taxi, the restaurant finally came into view. Traffic was light, as expected for an autumn morning, but Carlos¡¯s culinary urgency had persuaded me to opt for the faster route.

    The taxi pulled up in front of Le Jardin D¡¯Or, and the first thing that caught my eye was the restaurant¡¯s elegant fa?ade. The name, written in gleaming golden letters, shimmered softly in the morning sunlight, complemented by delicate flowers adorning the windows. The place was even more charming than I had imagined. A smile crept onto my face as I quickly paid the driver and stepped out of the car.

    Inside, the atmosphere was simultaneously warm, rustic, and sophisticated. Polished wooden tables were illuminated by soft lighting that gave the space a cozy glow, while the decor¡ªan artful mix of rustic charm and modern elegance¡ªmade it feel like the perfect spot to celebrate a friend¡¯s success. The serene mood was infused with a subtle excitement on everyone¡¯s faces as they sat at the table, already deep into conversations.

    The waiter greeted me warmly and guided me to a table at the back, where everyone was already gathered.

    To the right sat Elizabeth¡ªLiz¡ªwith her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, teasing Midori relentlessly. Midori, on the other hand, was trying to focus on her food but couldn¡¯t hide her embarrassment as Liz flashed an old photo of her at 15. In the picture, Midori had dyed her hair pink to look like Sakura Haruno from Naruto, her favorite character at the time.

    At the far end was Nicole, uncharacteristically quiet but smiling faintly as she observed the chaos around her, as if she was enjoying the scene in her own calm way.

    On the left sat the gluttons¡¯ team. At one end was Benjamin, whose towering rugby-player physique made him look like someone who¡¯d naturally claim the biggest portion of any dish. In the middle was Carlos, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement at the sight of the various delicacies being served on the waiters'' trays. Beside him sat Luca, running a hand through his short black hair, always aware of what was happening around him, though his look suggested he wouldn¡¯t waste any time with the food either.

    As expected, Carlos had an empty plate in front of him and an expression of pure satisfaction on his face.

    ¡°Ah, Dalton! You finally made it! We were about to start without you!¡± Carlos exclaimed, looking at me with that ironic but warm smile of his.

    ¡°I knew you wouldn¡¯t start without me, but don¡¯t worry¡ªI¡¯ve brought my appetite, too,¡± I replied with a grin, settling into my seat.

    ¡°You¡¯d better hurry, there¡¯s not much food left,¡± Elizabeth teased, laughing as Carlos waved the waiter over to order his first dish.

    The atmosphere was light, and I couldn¡¯t help but smile. Being here, surrounded by my friends and the cozy autumn setting, was exactly where I was meant to be. The city seemed to breathe along with us¡ªcalm yet filled with a kind of warm energy, as though the season itself was sharing its essence with us.

    As they ate, laughed, and talked, Luca, noticing Nicole¡¯s unusually solemn expression, tilted his head and asked, ¡°What¡¯s going on? Normally, you¡¯d be the first to order right after Carlos and the first to raise a glass for a toast.¡±

    Nicole looked out the window, where pedestrians hurried by, and replied without much emotion, ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong. I just woke up in a bad mood.¡± She absentmindedly played with her short blonde hair, her green eyes still fixed on the people outside, as if searching for something beyond the conversation around her.

    ¡°Liar¡ªI declare you guilty of trying to fool us!¡± I said with a playful smile, watching her closely. Cutting a piece of the most succulent meat from the tray, I dramatically dipped it into the sauce and pointed the fork toward Nicole. ¡°What¡¯s going on with you? Here comes the airplane!¡±

    The quiet giggles of a few others at the table quickly turned into louder laughter, mingling with curious glances from nearby diners. Soon enough, the entire table was laughing. Nicole, visibly flustered, had no choice but to drop her act of indifference.

    ¡°Okay, okay, stop it¡ªthis is embarrassing,¡± she said, her face tinged with embarrassment as she eyed the piece of meat, still feigning resistance. Yet, she couldn¡¯t help herself. Taking the piece and popping it into her mouth, she gave in, unable to hide a faint smile.

    ¡®Gotcha,¡¯ I thought to myself, satisfied to have coaxed even a fleeting smile from Nicole.

    After chewing the piece of meat, she finally sighed. It was clear something was bothering her, though she didn¡¯t seem ready to fully open up just yet.

    ¡°Well, one of my investments just boomed,¡± she confessed, her voice slightly shaky. Her eyes lingered on her glass of wine, as though searching for solace in its depths. Nicole, always proud of her pursuit of a business degree, had a reputation for working tirelessly to carve out her place in the fiercely competitive field.

    ¡°Ah, it wasn¡¯t anything major,¡± Benjamin chimed in, his tone casual and unbothered. ¡°If I remember correctly, the risk was huge, and you didn¡¯t invest much.¡±

    ¡°And what do you know about it? If I recall, physical education majors aren¡¯t exactly experts on business matters,¡± Nicole shot back, her usual confidence flaring up. Benjamin, a scholarship rugby player and well-known figure in the Physical Education department, was certainly no financial guru.

    ¡°And there¡¯s the Nicole we all know and love!¡± Elizabeth cut in quickly, attempting to dissolve the brewing tension before it disrupted the restaurant¡¯s calm. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to smooth things over. Everyone at the table knew that Nicole and Benjamin¡¯s sharp banter was just their dynamic¡ªa lighthearted way to show concern for each other, albeit in the most unconventional way.

    ¡°Ah, I see the chemistry between you two is as strong as ever,¡± I teased, flashing a knowing grin at both of them.

    ¡°Dalton, you devil,¡± Midori, who had been silent up to this point, quipped, shooting a mock scolding look at me. Everyone knew Benjamin and Nicole liked each other, even if neither would dare admit it.

    ¡°And that¡¯s why you¡¯re Dalton Xavier and not John Dalton,¡± Benjamin retorted with a smug grin, referencing the scientist with an air of playful superiority.

    ¡°For once, you¡¯ve said something smart,¡± Nicole replied, tucking a strand of her short blonde hair behind her ear with a subtle flick.

    ¡°Well, maybe you could take a page from Luca,¡± Benjamin shot back, his grin widening. ¡°He just became an assistant to the head of the Chemistry department, so perhaps he could teach you a thing or two about actual chemistry.¡± His tone carried the triumphant weight of a perfectly delivered jab.

    ¡°Touch¨¦. Alright, you got me this time,¡± I conceded with a laugh, grabbing my fork and knife. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to enjoying the fruits of Midori¡¯s success.¡± I prepared to dig into the juicy piece of meat on my plate.

    But instead of savoring a delicious bite, the only thing I heard was an unexpected sound: the harsh scrape of my knife and fork against an empty plate.

 A Beautiful Autumn Morning (2)

    "EH? Where¡¯s my steak?" I exclaimed, clearly outraged.

    "Mine¡¯s gone too?" Benjamin, Elizabeth, and Luca echoed, their expressions equally baffled and disoriented. Only Midori and Nicole, the calmest ones at the table, had their plates untouched.

    Carlos, with that smug smile plastered across his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes, looked at us all and declared proudly, ¡°You were talking too much and eating too little. Clearly, you weren¡¯t hungry anymore. My mother taught me never to waste food.¡±

    For a moment, silence hung over the table as we all processed what had just happened. Carlos, already finishing the last bite of his meal and dabbing his mouth with a cloth napkin, looked utterly unbothered. The absurdity of the situation hit us all at once, and indignation quickly replaced the shock.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you touch Midori¡¯s or Nicole¡¯s plates¡ªjust ours?¡± Luca demanded, his voice tinged with frustration. He had been saving the best cut of meat for last, only to discover it had vanished like magic.

    Carlos¡¯s grin grew even wider, full of mischief, as if he had been waiting for this very question. ¡°I¡¯m not crazy or ungrateful. Midori is the reason we¡¯re here in the first place. Without her, none of this would be happening. And besides, she never stopped eating¡ªeven while the rest of you were busy chatting.¡±

    "And as for Nicole..." He paused dramatically, carefully choosing his words. "Well, I¡¯d like to stay alive to enjoy tomorrow¡¯s delicacies."

    Nicole, who had been silent until now, shot Carlos a death glare that could have cut through steel, though she still said nothing.

    ¡°Carlos, do you realize you basically stole food from all of us?¡± Elizabeth asked, her tone dangerously sweet, though her expression was anything but friendly.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t steal anything. I merely did what any sensible person would do: rescued food that was about to be wasted,¡± Carlos replied with the serene confidence of a wolf explaining the virtues of hunting.

    ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s our fault for not guarding our plates,¡± Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head with a faint smile. She knew there was no point in dragging the argument any further.

    A ripple of nervous laughter spread across the table, though no one dared to challenge Carlos any more.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°We can always just order more,¡± Midori said nonchalantly, reminding everyone that, after all, she was footing the bill.

    Carlos¡¯s eyes lit up at Midori¡¯s remark. ¡°Midori, you¡¯re an angel¡ªno, a goddess,¡± he declared, already gearing up to order another round of dishes.

    She simply watched him with an amused and curious smile, marveling at how so much food could possibly fit into such a slender frame. Oblivious to the astonishment of those around him, Carlos continued stacking plates with the gleeful enthusiasm of a child, utterly unconcerned by the growing pile in front of him.

    The group¡¯s laughter filled the air¡ªa joyful and familiar sound, one of those perfect moments when the world seems to pause, leaving only the table, the friends, the warmth of camaraderie, and the delicious food.

    The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread mingled with the gentle autumn breeze flowing through the open window. The golden morning sunlight filtered through the amber and crimson leaves, casting a warm, glowing hue across the scene. Autumn had always held a certain magic, a promise of calm moments and comforting scents lingering in the air. But, as always, the unexpected lurked just beyond the surface.

    As conversations drifted to movies, vacation plans, and the latest series everyone had been watching, something felt... off. I couldn¡¯t quite explain it, but an unease settled into my mind. My gaze drifted toward the window, where falling leaves seemed to descend in an oddly deliberate manner, as if nature itself were moving in slow motion.

    Then, it happened.

    A muffled, urgent voice shattered the rhythm of our chatter¡ªa distant shout, frantic and filled with desperation:

    ¡°WATCH OUT! GET OUT OF THERE!¡±

    Before anyone could react, the screech of skidding tires and the roar of an out-of-control engine filled the air. I turned my head toward the window just in time to see it: a massive truck hurtling toward us, its metallic bulk hurtling forward at terrifying speed. Everything seemed to slow down.

    The driver, pale and desperate, wrestled with the steering wheel, his efforts to regain control futile.

    And then, the collision.

    The deafening crash erupted as the truck slammed into the restaurant. The large window directly in front of us shattered instantly, sending shards of glass flying through the air like razor-sharp rain. The sound reverberated off the walls, and for a fleeting moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

    Then, silence.

    A profound, eerie stillness enveloped everything, as if time itself had stopped.

    It had been a beautiful autumn morning... but no longer. In that instant, reality fractured, just like the shattered glass now scattered across the floor, glinting faintly in the warm sunlight.

    If only it had ended there.

    It had been a beautiful autumn morning, yes¡ªbut it was also the end of everything.

 Echoes of the Past (1)

    "Uh, what''s going on? Where am I?" My mind was a mess, thoughts scattered like fragments of a nightmare I couldn''t piece together, and the strangest part was the utter calm in my mind.

    "I didn''t die? That''s strange..." I tried to move my arms, my legs, but it was as if my body didn''t exist. Nothing. No pain, no weight. Not even the air in my lungs.

    My eyes¡ªor whatever they were now¡ªopened to an endless, infinite void, white and unyielding. Absolute silence. Nothing but me and the vast emptiness.

    The last thing I remembered was the sound of tires screeching, someone screaming¡ªor was it my own?¡ªand the violent impact that erased everything. "Is this... the end?"

    "I can''t move!" The thought echoed in my mind like a silent scream, but it was futile. My body seemed to have vanished from reality. There was nothing holding me, no restraints, but nothing I could control either.

    "Help." I tried to cry out, to beg, but my mouth didn''t respond. In fact, it didn''t even seem to be there. The emptiness around me was absolute, but the void within me was even more terrifying.

    It felt like being trapped in a bubble of pure thought, with no voice, no touch, no form. "What''s happening to me?"

    At first, despair took over. It was an irrational panic, almost instinctive, like an animal caught in invisible chains trying to break free. The idea of being trapped in something so absolute, without form or meaning, was suffocating. I wanted to scream, to struggle, to move... to do anything that proved I still existed. But the emptiness offered no resistance. It was indifferent.

    After what I think were minutes¡ªor maybe hours?¡ªsomething strange began to happen. The initial fear gave way to a forced calm, almost unnatural. It was as if my mind had given up fighting the impossible. It was like being adrift in an infinite ocean, without current, without direction, and eventually realizing that fighting the waves would be pointless.

    And then the question arose. "If everything here is static... does time even exist in this place?"

    The thought disturbed me, but it also intrigued me. Each second seemed to drag on, but I had no way of measuring its passage. Perhaps time, as I knew it, didn''t make sense here. Perhaps there was no "here" at all. The absence of form, of walls, of ground, made even the idea of space seem absurd.

    All that remained was the void. An absolute nothingness, yet somehow overwhelming. I couldn¡¯t see it, touch it, or even comprehend it, but I felt its presence. It wasn¡¯t just an absence of things; it was something active, oppressive, as if the void had a will of its own. And in this void, the only thing that truly existed was me ¡ª or at least what remained of me.

    Acceptance came slowly, but inevitably. "If there''s nothing to be done, what¡¯s left but to accept?"

    Still, acceptance didn¡¯t bring peace. It brought questions. Where was I? Why was I here? What did this mean? And, above all, how long would I remain in this endless void?

    "Forget it," I thought bitterly. "I¡¯m the only one here, and there¡¯s no one to answer me."

    The conclusion, though logical, was as bitter as bile. Total solitude weighed heavier than any chain could. There was no echo, no warmth, no cold. It was just me and that relentless void.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Feeling my sanity slowly slipping away, I realized I needed to do something. Anything. Even if it wasn¡¯t possible to change the situation, I could try to occupy my mind. Staying still, surrendered to that absolute emptiness, felt like an invitation to madness.

    "Maybe recalling will help." That was the only idea I had left, as simple as it was desperate. "If nothing here can change, maybe remembering what I¡¯ve lived will be my anchor."

    I closed my eyes¡ªor at least I felt as though I did, unsure if I still had eyes. I began to search the corners of my memory, like someone trying to find a lost item in a dark room. Fuzzy images began to emerge, like pieces of an old dream. Moments of joy, of sadness, of regret. People I loved, places that marked me, decisions that defined the course of my life.

    At first, the thoughts were comforting, like holding on to something familiar in the midst of the vast unknown. But as the memories accumulated, a new feeling began to take hold of me. "How long can I do this before these memories start to fade too?"

    Even so, there was no choice. Recalling the events of my life was the only thing that connected me to the idea that I was still¡ªme. Without my past, what would remain? I would be just a consciousness drifting in the void, without identity, without purpose.

    "Maybe, during this time..." The hope was fragile, but it was still hope. Who knows, while I immersed myself in the depths of my memories, something might happen. An answer might appear. A change might finally come. And if it didn¡¯t¡­ well, at least I could hold on to those memories until the end.

    I decided to abandon all futile thoughts and dive deep into my memory, like a castaway clinging to the one thing that could offer some anchor in the vast emptiness.

    Unexpectedly, I found myself able to explore memories I thought had long been erased, fragments that seemed unreachable due to the wear of time. Suddenly, vivid and real images emerged. I saw the moment of my birth: the bright light of the delivery room, the determined look on the midwife¡¯s face, the quick and careful movements of the nurses.

    What struck me the most, though, was the face of my mother. She was there, holding me for the first time, her brown eyes overflowing with a joy that no words could describe. Her expression, a mix of relief and happiness, seemed to radiate warmth¡ªsomething that, even in this absolute void, I could feel. It was as if, for a moment, I was back to that day, wrapped in the pure and unconditional love only she could give.

    Still, the persistent question arose in my mind: "Why can I remember this now?"

    It felt as if I were being taken back to the origin of it all, to the furthest, most primal point of my existence.

    "Oh, I forgot¡­ no one is here," I thought, with a sense of emptiness, as if my mind were merely echoing thoughts without answers.

    No time to check, the memories continued to flow, unannounced, like a river that doesn¡¯t care to take me where I don¡¯t wish to go. I saw my mother once again, young and radiant, a beautiful and graceful woman, her curly hair falling softly over her shoulders. She was in the kitchen, preparing lunch, her presence radiating a calm that somehow seemed to be the soul of the house. I, still a child, maybe 12 or 13 years old, was by her side, helping awkwardly but enthusiastically.

    The sounds of the kitchen, the rustling of the knife chopping vegetables, the bubbling of the pot, everything was familiar. I felt safe there, as if that moment were eternal, as if nothing could take away that feeling of peace.

    Until, suddenly, a familiar sound broke the quiet routine: the squeal of car brakes, followed by the sound of the engine shutting off. I knew exactly what it was. My father¡¯s old Toyota Land Cruiser, a car that had seen better days but had always been synonymous with home, with safety, was arriving. It was the sound of my father coming home. I could see the scene in my mind: the car parking, the click of the door opening, and for a moment, I could almost smell the earth and gasoline it carried after a day¡¯s work.

    I quickly went to the door to wait for him. The sound of footsteps approaching was a familiar relief. When the door opened, the man who stepped in seemed like a giant to me. It was my father.

    He was imposing, standing at an impressive 6''6", while I, at 5''5", felt small beside him. His curly hair, cut short and straight, was so characteristic of his appearance, and his eyes, darker than my mother¡¯s, seemed to reflect the very universe. Yet, what captivated me the most about this man was his smile¡ªa smile so radiant and genuine that it seemed to light up the entire room.

    "Look at this wonder, the one I most wanted to find at home," he said, his gaze softening when he saw me there, waiting by the door.

 Echoes of the Past (2)

    His smile widened when he heard my response.

    My father looked at me with that mischievous grin only he could give. He set his work bag gently on the floor, took off his blazer, and hung it neatly on the coat rack beside the door, which was still ajar behind him. Suddenly, he turned quickly to face me.

    ¡°Seven times seven,¡± he said with a sharp, expectant look.

    Without hesitation, I answered, ¡°Forty-nine.¡±

    He didn¡¯t skip a beat: ¡°Eight times eight.¡±

    ¡°Sixty-four.¡±

    ¡°Twelve times twenty.¡±

    ¡°Two hundred and forty.¡±

    ¡°One hundred times three hundred and fifty.¡±

    ¡°Thirty-five thousand.¡±

    ¡°Fifteen percent.¡±

    ¡°Five thousand two hundred and fifty.¡±

    He paused, as though considering my performance. Then, with that satisfied smile of his, he said, ¡°I see you¡¯ve been studying for real.¡±

    I puffed up with pride. ¡°Obviously! If I want to count all my money, I need to know how to calculate.¡±

    ¡°True, true. And as the student of highest merit in your school,¡± he said, his voice laced with pride.

    He turned back toward the door, and for a moment, something seemed to linger there¡ªsomething I couldn¡¯t quite see. Then, with a sudden, theatrical movement, my father lifted a large, square object with both hands. I frowned, trying to piece together what was happening. Finally, he turned to face me, revealing what he held.

    ¡°Ta-da! Look what your old man managed to get for you!¡±

    The enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable. In his hands was a computer. Not just any computer¡ªa gaming PC, bold and imposing, decked out with the kind of gear only my father could surprise me with. It was everything I had ever wanted.

    My heart pounded in my chest. ¡°Dad¡­ this is incredible! Thank you so much!¡±

    "Thinking about it, that computer was the beginning of everything," my mind began to wander as the memories flowed along with it.

    Who would have thought that I, born in Angola, middle class, would end up studying at Oxford because of a gaming PC?

    ¡°Funny.¡±

    I looked into the void surrounding me, where nothing existed except for the memories and thoughts flashing through my mind. I was isolated, with no concept of time or space, but the memories seemed to be the only real things in this limbo.

    ¡ªPaths of Ragnarok¡ª... an MMORPG that seemed simple at first glance, yet inexplicably connected me to people who would change my life forever. People who, even now, in this void where I couldn¡¯t move, remained vividly present in my mind.

    Elizabeth Walker. A Brit with an open mind, vibrant and serious at the same time, with an insatiable passion for history, politics, and everything involving mysteries and archaeology. Always brimming with questions about the world and its deeper layers. The memory of her endless conversations about historical enigmas made me smile, even though I couldn¡¯t physically express it.

    Benjamin Williams. The headstrong American who, with his impulsive and competitive nature, taught me English and, more importantly, showed me that life wasn¡¯t just about excelling in sports or studies but about fighting for the people you truly care about.

    "He¡¯s an idiot," I thought, "but he¡¯s my idiot." He had a way of making even his stubbornness feel like a guiding light, simplifying things in a way only he could. I missed that¡ªthe uncomplicated energy he brought.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Midori Shinkai. The shy and kind Japanese girl with a soft, gentle voice, always ready to help others. She had an almost artistic view of life, with an unconditional love for music and painting. The way she was always willing to listen made me feel less alone, even when the world seemed to crumble. She was the one who suggested we all live together, a decision that undoubtedly bonded us in ways none of us had imagined.

    Carlos Barbosa. The laid-back, food-loving, and mischievous Brazilian who could turn even the tensest moment into something lighthearted with a joke¡ªor an even bolder joke. Yet, he had a seriousness that emerged in the most unexpected moments, making him stubborn and hard to deal with. I remember how well we got along from the start, speaking the same language¡ªliterally and figuratively. He had a unique way of looking at the world, and I always admired that.

    ¡®Nicole De La Fontaine.¡¯ The initially arrogant Frenchwoman who, over time, revealed herself to be a deeply sincere person¡ªa true friend. Her obsession with money was something we all laughed at, but deep down, we knew that despite everything, she cared deeply about those around her. She was the kind of person who never hid her true self, and in a way, that made us trust her more than anyone else.

    Lastly, ¡®Luca Moretti.¡¯ An Italian and my best friend, the first online friend I ever had. He was the one who convinced me to leave my life as a solo player and join a guild. Luca was reserved but could instantly transform into the most extroverted person when he wanted, effortlessly becoming the center of any conversation. He was a genius in some areas and incredibly clueless in others. This blend of qualities fascinated me¡ªhis brilliant intelligence tempered by his human flaws. It was a duality that made our friendship even more intriguing.

    The most curious thing of all was how we were brought together by a single game. ¡ªPaths of Ragnarok¡ª, the game that turned strangers into friends, enemies into allies, and solitude into companionship.

    I remember it as if it were yesterday: even though I was a solo player, there were times I had to complete joint missions with other players. And whenever that happened, I would cross paths with the same people. The guild Luca was part of¡ªRound Table¡ªwas just a small group back then, a simple party with only five members. Elizabeth and Benjamin were the guild''s founders, and I already knew them in the game. We had done missions and dungeons together many times, and honestly, I was tired of Elizabeth¡¯s relentless insistence that I join the guild. She was relentless, constantly pestering me. But I categorically refused. Being a solo player had its perks, and I didn¡¯t think anything could change my mind. Or so I thought.

    By the time I turned 16, I was already a well-respected player in the game. My character was high-level, and a new expansion had been released. The missions became more challenging, and one in particular required a trustworthy party¡ªat least four players. That¡¯s how I found myself in a game I hadn¡¯t anticipated. Luca, as always, knew exactly how to lure me into his guild. He challenged me to a bet: if I beat him in a duel, he would help me with the mission. If he won, I¡¯d have to join their guild.

    It was a simple bet¡ªor so it seemed. Luca, however, had a trick up his sleeve. He used one of the game¡¯s most ridiculous items¡ªThief¡¯s King Gloves. This item, in its original form, only had a 0.5% chance of activating a Full Counter, which tripled the damage of an attack and reflected it back at the attacker. A risk, sure, but nothing threatening for a player of my skill level. The problem, as I soon discovered, was that Luca had not only enchanted the item but also upgraded it exclusively for this purpose. He increased the activation chance to 20%, and with his insane in-game luck and character buffs, he had an effective activation chance of 50%.

    Using this setup, he activated the Full Counter on my most powerful ability, defeating me with an Insta-Kill. I couldn¡¯t do anything¡ªI was completely caught off guard.

    ¡®Luca really is a cunning addict,¡¯ I thought, remembering that scene with a smile. He had defeated me in such a clever and skillful way that I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. In that fight, I had been the perfect target for him to execute that move, and he didn¡¯t miss the chance. Suddenly, there I was¡ªa member of Round Table, the seventh and final one to be admitted. Luca had gotten what he wanted, and, in a way, so had I.

    ¡®I miss them so much¡­¡¯ But at that moment, I didn¡¯t know how much time had passed or if time even existed here. I was alone, and the solitude felt infinite. For the first time, I regretted being so isolated. Perhaps I had grown too used to their company, to the warmth of conversations and the sound of laughter. Now, all that remained was the oppressive silence of this void.

    That white, endless, colorless space was now terrifying. The absence of anything physical around me was unsettling. How was my consciousness still here if there was nothing to anchor it? Was this all a dream? Was heaven like this? Or perhaps hell? The sensation of floating, without direction, without a fixed point, made me feel increasingly lost.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t ask for this.¡¯ The phrase echoed in my mind like an endless lament, repeating itself incessantly as if searching for meaning in a place where none existed.

    I couldn¡¯t find a way to fight against the sensation that I was being erased, as if my very existence was a lie.

    ¡®I¡¯d give anything to see them one more time¡­¡¯

 A New Beginning (1)

    "I would give anything to see them one more time..."

    The white void around me, strangely, began to darken. And with that darkness came an overwhelming sense of relief¡ªa profound calm, as if the end I had long sought was finally within reach.

    I had already accepted death¡ªor at least, I thought I had. Perhaps this darkness was the key to ending it all, a final rest for my tormented spirit. I no longer had the strength to resist, so I let myself sink into it, arms wide open, welcoming the inevitable conclusion that now seemed so near.

    Yet, amidst it all, an unusual peace enveloped me. I was calm¡ªcalmer than I ever thought possible. It felt as though the crushing weight of existence had been lifted from my shoulders. But deep within my awareness, something began to stir¡ªa vibration, an alarm.

    A cold dread seized me, a terror unlike anything I¡¯d felt before.

    "NO! NO! I CAN¡¯T DIE NOW!"

    My mind wrenched itself free from that tranquil abyss, panic flooding every fiber of my being. The thought of dying in that moment¡ªwithout saying what needed to be said, without doing what needed to be done¡ªwas unbearable.

    Somewhere in the recesses of my soul, I knew. Perhaps I was already dead. And yet, the mere fact that my consciousness still lingered made me believe there was something more. Some chance. Some reason to keep going. Something was binding me to this emptiness, this pain.

    "There¡¯s still so much I haven¡¯t done... so much I haven¡¯t lived..."

    The agony, the helplessness echoed in the words that reverberated through my mind.

    Then, a silent plea welled up from the depths of my heart.

    "Please... I... I would give anything just to be with them again."

    It was the last thing I had left¡ªthe final wish my soul could muster.

    But then, the darkness swallowed everything. The void consumed me, dragging my consciousness down into its endless depths until there was nothing.

    Or so I thought.

    <hr>

    What felt like mere moments after being devoured by the void, a sound shattered the oppressive silence. A laugh.

    It was loud and thunderous, echoing without a source, filling the emptiness with an indescribable force.

    ¡°HA... HAHA... HAHAHAHAHAHA!¡±

    The laughter echoed, warping the void itself. Amidst the darkness, a figure began to rise. Their hair seemed to defy gravity, lifted by an unseen force as they laughed with a surreal intensity.

    ¡°My king, the experiment was a success¡­¡± A voice broke through the air, filled with emotion¡ªa mixture of euphoria and reverence. The soft sound of measured footsteps followed, growing closer. ¡°We¡¯ve done it. Successfully.¡±

    Another voice, calm and commanding, responded with deliberate authority. ¡°Perfect, Leopold. I knew I could rely on you, the greatest archmage of the kingdom.¡±

    The one addressed as "king" spoke with a tone that conveyed both respect and unshakable confidence in the man he named. He waited, composed, as whatever was happening ahead of him began to take form, the swirling dust in the air slowly settling.

    ¡®What¡¯s going on? Didn¡¯t I get swallowed by that immense darkness?¡¯ Doubt clawed its way into my mind¡ªa whirlwind of uncertainties. How was this even possible? Where was I? And who were these powerful figures speaking with such gravitas?

    Traumatized by what had transpired earlier, I remained frozen, my thoughts an incoherent jumble, unable to process the strangeness of my surroundings.

    ¡°Congratulations, my king. The odds of safeguarding the kingdom¡¯s future have increased exponentially,¡± said a third voice, younger and brimming with optimism.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves, Oswald. There are no guarantees¡­ not yet,¡± replied the first voice with caution.

    Silence followed for several minutes. The dust hanging thickly in the air began to dissipate, revealing the scene. Something at the center of a massive circle, etched with intricate arcane symbols and shapes, was finally taking form.

    Seven figures emerged, all appearing to be in their late teens or early twenties.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± a deep voice asked, shattering the stillness. The sound jolted me from my stupor. I knew that voice. I could feel it in my soul, the unmistakable timbre of Benjamin.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    My eyes remained shut, but the recognition of that voice gave me the courage to open them.

    As my eyelids parted, I was struck by the sheer grandeur of the place around me. The scene unfolding before me was nothing short of majestic, like something ripped from the pages of an epic tale.

    The room I found myself in was immense, its towering walls stretching upward as if trying to touch the heavens. They were carved from stone, intricately etched with depictions of ancient battles and long-forgotten conquests.

    The ceiling above was particularly breathtaking, adorned with colorful stained glass that cast beams of gold and crimson across the room. The light seemed alive, shifting and dancing, as if the setting sun itself had been captured within those panes of glass, bathing everything in a warm, mystical glow.

    The very air felt different¡ªcharged. Every sound, whether the faint echo of footsteps or the soft intake of breath, reverberated gently, as though the room itself was sentient, listening, absorbing, and responding with whispers of a distant past.

    This place, wherever it was, carried a weight of history so profound it was almost suffocating. Yet, amidst all that, there was one thing I knew: I wasn¡¯t alone anymore.

    At the center of the grand hall, towering black marble pillars rose high into the dome above. The edges of the dome were adorned with an intricate network of symbols and runes, weaving a narrative of a forgotten kingdom. The flickering torchlight, mounted on walls and scattered across altars, cast dancing shadows, creating a dramatic interplay of light and darkness that made the space feel both ethereal and foreboding.

    Looking forward, my gaze landed on a commanding figure seated upon a throne. He was framed by a luxurious carpet of deep crimson and gold that stretched toward the far reaches of the room, where shadows thickened like an impenetrable veil. His crown shimmered subtly under the torchlight, and his piercing gaze seemed to weigh everything in the room with unshakable authority.

    But my attention quickly shifted downward. My breath caught in my throat as I focused on the six figures standing ahead of me. They were unmistakable¡ªthe ones I knew better than anyone. Elizabeth, Luca, Carlos, Midori, Nicole, and, most of all, Benjamin. They were alive, standing there, mere steps away. My heart ached with longing, and in that moment, the only thing I wanted was to rush to them and hold them tightly.

    ¡®Thank you¡­¡¯ A wave of profound gratitude washed over me, soothing my restless thoughts.

    Leopold¡¯s voice broke the silence¡ªa deep, steady cadence brimming with unshakable confidence. ¡°Do not be alarmed. Welcome to the grand kingdom of Allythe¨®n.¡±

    His words resonated off the stone walls, but they failed to pierce the fog of confusion that still enveloped us.

    Benjamin, ever the first to voice his thoughts, erupted with his characteristic mix of frustration and incredulity.

    ¡°WHAT?¡± His voice rang out, echoing through the hall, a mixture of disbelief and anger. ¡°A truck hits us, and in the blink of an eye, we¡¯re in some random place called Alireons?¡±

    It was clear he was struggling to grasp the absurdity of the situation. His voice was sharp and forceful, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of fear¡ªa fear of losing control in a world that no longer played by the rules he understood.

    He said ¡®in the blink of an eye¡­?¡¯ A chilling thought struck me. Am I the only one who experienced that void? That endless darkness that swallowed my consciousness?

    Leopold, unfazed by Benjamin¡¯s outburst, maintained an air of calm. His demeanor was that of someone who had faced countless challenges before and emerged unshaken. His tone remained gentle yet commanding, as though he were explaining something to a child.

    ¡°Allythe¨®n, my dear boy,¡± he corrected patiently, enunciating each syllable with precision. ¡°Not Alireons. It is Allythe¨®n.¡±

    Leopold¡¯s collected tone was like fuel to Benjamin¡¯s simmering frustration. Unable to contain his anger, Benjamin let out a furious cry and charged toward him. Yet the moment he crossed the boundary of the circle, an invisible force hurled him back with such power that he landed several feet away.

    The room went still, the air thick with tension. Whatever force had repelled him radiated an undeniable sense of warning.

    ¡°BENJAMIN!¡± Everyone shouted in unison, rushing to help him recover.

    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Luca asked, still struggling to process the sudden turn of events.

    ¡°It must be some kind of repulsion field,¡± Carlos replied, his mind racing to rationalize what had just occurred. ¡°But... that shouldn¡¯t be possible with the technology we have today. It¡¯s... materialized energy.¡±

    ¡°Where the hell are we?¡± Elizabeth asked, her voice trembling with fear.

    ¡°According to Mr. Beard Mountain over there, Allythe¨®n. Ever heard of it?¡± Nicole retorted with her trademark sarcasm, clearly trying to cut through the tension in the room.

    Oddly enough, most of them seemed to hold onto a semblance of calm, except for Midori. She stood motionless, her eyes distant and unfocused. She looked as though she was still trapped in whatever nightmare had brought us here. She¡¯s shaken... maybe more than the rest of us, I thought as I watched her.

    Before I could act, Elizabeth stepped away from Benjamin and moved toward Midori. Gently resting a hand on her shoulder, she said, ¡°She¡¯s in shock.¡±

    Turning back toward the group, she added, ¡°I don¡¯t know where we are either. But I do know who might have the answers.¡±

    Her words stirred something within me. Slowly, I rose to my feet, feeling an odd sense of calm wash over me¡ªa bizarre contrast to the confusion and panic surrounding us. Despite everything, for the first time since our arrival, something in this chaos began to make sense.

    ¡°Dalton, don¡¯t!¡± Elizabeth¡¯s voice rang out, sharp and urgent, as she noticed me moving toward the edge of the glowing circle.

    ¡®How am I this calm?¡¯ The thought lingered in my mind, strange and disjointed. This level of serenity wasn¡¯t like me. Under any normal circumstances, I would¡¯ve been as shaken as Benjamin¡ªor worse.

    I turned to her with a small, reassuring smile, trying to dispel the tension she radiated. The humor was for her, but in truth, it was more for me. ¡°Relax,¡± I said, my tone deliberately lighthearted. ¡°I¡¯m not as reckless as Benjamin.¡±

 A New Beginning (2)

    Finally, I was with them again. A wave of gratitude and relief surged through my chest. I stopped at the edge of the circle, my eyes fixed on the man called Leopold, the one who had brought us all here. His appearance was anything but ordinary. He had a thick beard that reached his chest, long graying hair, and eyes that glowed with a peculiar pink hue. Just looking at him sent shivers down my spine. I¡¯ll have to tread carefully with this man, I thought.

    ¡°First of all, good afternoon¡ªor is it good morning? Maybe good evening?¡± I asked, not out of necessity, but to lighten the heavy tension that hung in the room.

    ¡°Good evening,¡± Leopold replied with a touch of satisfaction, as if pleased that someone had finally shown some civility.

    ¡°We¡¯re in Allyth¨¦on, but where exactly? And while we¡¯re at it, would you mind introducing yourself? I¡¯m Dalton Xavier.¡±

    ¡°Oh, how rude of me,¡± Leopold said with a slight bow. ¡°You may call me Leopold Stargazer, the President of the Royal Magical Tower of this realm. The kingdom of Allyth¨¦on lies in the central continent, bordered by the empires of Ember, Ragnar, and Kronos, as well as the kingdoms of Vinland, Stormhaven, Galadriel, the Continental Sea, the Sea of Shadows, and the Berserk and Atlantic Oceans.¡±

    I rested one arm over the other, my hand on my chin, processing what he had said. ¡°And where exactly is this on planet Earth?¡±

    ¡°Ah, what a blunder on my part!¡± Leopold said, as if realizing something he should have explained sooner. ¡°Due to the abruptness of your arrival, I neglected to mention this. You are not on planet Earth. You are in a world called Asgardia. And more than that, you come from another dimension.¡±

    Shock rippled through all of us. What he was saying seemed impossible, but the truth felt even further away. ¡°Is there a way for us to return?¡± I asked, needing to know, though dreading the answer.

    ¡°Why do you ask a question to which you already know the answer?¡± Leopold responded, his voice grave.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I replied, confusion overtaking me.

    ¡°You¡¯ve already died, haven¡¯t you?¡± Leopold continued, unhurried. ¡°Do you wish to return knowing that? It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve seen anyone so eager to go back six feet under.¡± He sighed, as if struggling to understand our insistence.

    Leopold¡¯s words landed like a heavy blow on everyone¡ªexcept me. I had already made peace with my death. For the others, however, that harsh truth cut deep, like a blade slicing through flesh. Silence enveloped the room as we each processed the revelation in our own way. I watched them, trying to gauge how they were handling it. The shock was plain on their faces, the weight of what they had just learned evident in their expressions. And yet, I couldn¡¯t suppress a thought that crept into my mind: They still had hope. While I had moved beyond such notions.

    Before I could say anything further, Elizabeth¡ªthe most pragmatic among us¡ªspoke up. She asked the question we had all been circling around but had been too afraid to voice.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°I get it, and yet I don¡¯t. Context, please. You¡¯re the President of the Magical Tower, you said? Does that mean there¡¯s magic in this world? And why, exactly, did you summon us here?¡± Her voice was steady, with only a hint of skepticism. The idea of magic seemed absurd, a fantasy from a storybook. But, evidently, reality no longer cared for limits.

    Leopold sighed, once again looking exasperated, as though tired of explaining concepts that were second nature to him. He seemed unaccustomed to dealing with people so removed from the intricacies of his world.

    ¡°One way or another, I would have had to explain this,¡± he replied, as if stating the obvious. ¡°Yes, there is magic in this world. Yours, it seems, is not blessed with such wonders.¡± He smiled faintly, with a hint of pity, as though addressing children who had grown up without ever seeing the sun.

    He continued, his tone shifting as if recounting an ancient tale, one he believed we were not yet worthy of hearing. ¡°Twenty-five years ago, a prophecy was made. In it, our kingdom was destined to fall to ruin. Many more prophecies followed, some with slightly better outcomes, but the kingdom never thrived. Since then, we¡¯ve dedicated ourselves to crafting contingency plans to counter these prophecies. After all, prophecies are not absolute; they can be altered if certain events take place.¡±

    He paused, choosing his next words carefully, his voice thick with significance.

    ¡°And so, one of those plans involved a tome and ancient scrolls discovered 15 years ago. They detailed a method to summon souls¡ªand their bodies¡ªfrom other worlds into ours. We poured every resource we had into this endeavor because such souls carried with them knowledge, skills, and potential that could either lead us to prosperity or destroy us.¡±

    Leopold let his words hang in the air before continuing, his gaze scanning our reactions.

    ¡°We decided to summon wandering souls¡ªthose who had already died. It was challenging, as the summoned had to be individuals who had only just passed away, so that their bodies could also be transported intact.¡±

    His revelation lingered like a storm cloud above us, its weight pressing down. For the first time, our situation felt starkly real, the magnitude of it sinking in. I glanced at the others, reading their faces:

    Luca stared at Leopold with increasing intensity, perhaps searching for something more.

    Elizabeth was in shock, but there was also a growing look of doubt on her face.

    Nicole seemed to be trying to connect what she had heard with what she had experienced.

    Even Benjamin, usually aggressive, seemed more thoughtful, his previously irritated stance becoming tense.

    ¡°So, all of this... was an attempt to save the kingdom?¡± Elizabeth asked, still trying to process the logic. ¡°And we... were chosen for this?¡± Her voice was a mix of disbelief and understanding.

    ¡°Chosen, or more precisely, brought here,¡± Leopold replied, a touch of bitterness in his voice. ¡°You were summoned, not by fate, but by desperate need. The kingdom requires souls capable of bringing power and skills. You are the instruments of a risky move to save Allyth¨¦on.¡±

    Those last words hung in the air like a veiled threat, and all of us, silent, began to grasp the meaning of Leopold¡¯s words. We weren¡¯t heroes chosen by a god or a benevolent force. We were brought here to serve a purpose, and that purpose, once again, was being imposed upon us without our consent. We were mere pieces on a board we didn¡¯t understand.

    A heavy silence fell over the room. The man in the throne, who had said nothing until then, was watching us with an unwavering gaze. Finally, he moved, leaning forward, his fingers lightly resting on the arm of his throne.

    His solemn expression, filled with guilt¡ªguilt he was doing everything to conceal. At last, his deep, gravelly voice broke the silence.

    ¡°YES!¡±

 A New Beginning (3)

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    The word thundered through the room, sharp and final. Its impact reverberated among us. Frustration gripped the group like a vice.

    Elizabeth pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on Leopold as if searching for any trace of contradiction in his words. Benjamin, still catching his breath, clenched his fists tightly, while Nicole folded her arms, one eyebrow raised in defiance.

    Midori had regained some composure but stayed by Elizabeth¡¯s side, unwilling to utter a single word.

    As for me, I remained silent¡ªnot out of agreement, but because I understood the reality of our situation. Our lives¡ªor what little remained of them¡ªwere in the hands of the man seated on that throne. Any protest now would be futile.

    It was Carlos who finally broke the silence. He stepped forward, his face a mixture of disbelief and anger. ¡°And who are you to tell us how to live?¡± His voice rang out in the vast chamber like a challenge, accompanied by a sweeping gesture of frustration. ¡°Not long ago, I was enjoying a peaceful breakfast with my friends. Now I¡¯m supposed to swear loyalty to a complete stranger?¡±

    The reaction was swift.

    ¡°How dare you?!¡± roared Oswald, a short man standing beside Leopold. His fiery gaze was matched by his attempt to step past the edge of the magical circle. He must have forgotten, in his outburst, the invisible barrier that held him back. ¡°You¡¯re speaking to Augustus XIII Van Allytharion! The supreme ruler of this kingdom, far above the likes of you!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Oswald.¡± Leopold raised a hand, his voice sharp enough to halt the brewing conflict. His expression, as always, was calm and composed, but there was a weariness in his eyes. ¡°Let us avoid unnecessary confrontations. Remember, they are not accustomed to our ways.¡±

    Oswald hesitated, glaring at us with disdain, but eventually stepped back, muttering under his breath in frustration.

    Leopold turned his attention back to us, inclining his head slightly in a gesture of respect. ¡°Once again, I must apologize on behalf of the kingdom. Allow me to introduce the figure before you. Seated upon the throne is Augustus XIII Van Allytharion, the reigning king and sovereign of Allyth¨¦on.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    My gaze fixed on the man before us¡ªthe king. This time, I didn¡¯t see him as a distant figure, but as a person. Augustus was slender, his elegant frame draped in a robe adorned with golden details and intricate embroidery. A neatly trimmed anchor-shaped beard gave him an air of calculated authority. His golden eyes, the same shade as his perfectly groomed hair, betrayed neither disdain, pity, nor arrogance.

    There was something more complex in his expression. A commanding presence, carefully maintained, seemed to struggle against the weight of guilt resting on his shoulders.

    He rested his chin on his gloved hand, his fingers adorned with ornate designs. A faint sigh escaped him. Without moving, Augustus shifted his golden gaze to Leopold and sighed again, his impatience evident.

    ¡°Leopold, get to the point. We don¡¯t have much time. If they don¡¯t want to stay, they¡¯re welcome to return to their graves.¡±

    His voice was cold and unyielding. After a pause, he added with a trace of cynicism, ¡°After all, they only have four hours left, and the process takes at least two, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Leopold, maintaining his formal demeanor, bowed his head slightly and replied with respectful efficiency, ¡°You¡¯re right, Your Majesty. I¡¯ll proceed quickly.¡±

    Turning to us, his expression betrayed no uncertainty about what lay ahead. He clapped his hands once, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent room. ¡°I trust there will be no further unnecessary interruptions.¡±

    Luca, who had been silent until now, couldn¡¯t hold back any longer. Frustration laced his voice as he blurted out, ¡°What does that man¡ª?¡± He stopped abruptly, noticing Oswald¡¯s raised eyebrow and reproachful glare. Quickly adjusting his tone, he corrected himself. ¡°What does His Majesty, King Augustus, mean by ¡®only four hours left¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Nicole chimed in, her usual composure giving way to a note of anxious urgency. ¡°And what is this ¡®process¡¯ you keep mentioning? What are you talking about?¡±

    Leopold, clearly restraining his irritation, inhaled deeply, his calm veneer intact. ¡°That is precisely what I was about to explain¡ªif you¡¯d allow me to finish without constant interruptions.¡± His smile was dry and humorless as he stroked his beard thoughtfully, his tone growing more serious.

    ¡°To put it simply: you¡¯re still dead.¡±

    The impact of those words was immediate. All of us instinctively leaned forward, our minds racing to make sense of what he had just said.

    ¡°Still dead?¡± My thoughts spiraled in confusion. What does he mean by that? I can feel my heartbeat, my senses are all intact. My mind struggled to process the revelation, but the answer eluded me.

    Midori, who had until then remained completely silent, finally spoke, her voice low yet laden with the weight of the revelation. ¡°So... all of this is really just a dream?¡±

 Death Again?

    Leopold looked at us with his usual calm expression, but his eyes carried a mixture of regret and cold pragmatism. He took a deep breath before answering, clearly choosing his words carefully.

    ¡°No, young lady,¡± he said gently to Midori, dismissing her assumption. ¡°Your souls are intact, but the bond that connected them to your bodies was severed at the moment of your deaths. What we¡¯ve done is forcibly reestablish that bond by summoning you here.¡±

    Elizabeth, ever sharp, wasted no time asking the next question. ¡°So that bond is temporary, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is.¡± Leopold¡¯s answer was blunt, leaving no room for ambiguity.

    Rubbing my dark hair in frustration, I locked eyes with Leopold, searching for something more concrete in his words¡ªanything that might offer a shred of reassurance.

    ¡°But you have a solution for this, don¡¯t you?¡± I asked, my voice firm. ¡°Otherwise, you wouldn¡¯t have bothered to summon us. This process must have something to do with reconnecting our souls to our physical bodies, right?¡±

    Leopold hesitated, his expression thoughtful, as if weighing every word he was about to speak. He sighed deeply, and for the first time, the exhaustion of his burden was evident¡ªhis shoulders slightly slumped, his usually composed demeanor faltering under the weight of responsibility. When he finally spoke, his deep voice carried the gravity of the situation.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he admitted with a slight nod. ¡°The bond is temporary, but there¡¯s more to it than that. What we¡¯ve done is incredibly complex. Imagine a mountain that, over time, splits into two due to natural forces, creating a massive chasm. That chasm cannot be closed naturally or through normal means. Now, if we were to forcibly push the two halves of the mountain back together¡­ would it hold permanently?¡±

    Carlos, quick to catch on, pondered aloud. ¡°No. Eventually, the forces that split the mountain would act again and tear it apart. It¡¯s just a matter of time.¡±

    I frowned, trying to grasp the full implications, when Carlos¡¯s face lit up in realization, his voice rising as the pieces clicked together in his mind.

    ¡°Wait a second!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°So¡­ basically, because we¡¯ve already died, there¡¯s no way for our souls to permanently return to our bodies. It¡¯s a one-way street. There¡¯s no going back.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Leopold confirmed, the word leaving his mouth like a weight being dropped. ¡°What we¡¯ve done is temporarily turn that one-way road into a two-way path. But either the body or the soul¡ªwe still don¡¯t know which¡ªwill eventually reject the other. Once separated, the bond becomes unsustainable.¡±

    The room seemed to grow colder as the implications of his words settled over us. He continued, his voice slower now, as if weighing each syllable carefully.

    ¡°We have recreated the link between body and soul and reinforced it, but this is only temporary. In four hours, the bond will sever again. Your souls will follow their destined paths¡ªwhether to Nirvana, the High Heavens, Hell, the Demon Realm, or even Elysium¡ªwhile your bodies will decay. In essence, you have two choices: remain here and live with us, or return to your eternal rest.¡±

    The silence that followed was heavy. Leopold¡¯s words hung in the air like a cruel verdict, a stark reminder of our mortality and its unyielding consequences.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    His explanation struck us like a sentence handed down by an indifferent judge. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing mind, which was spinning with too many questions. Finally, in a calmer tone, I spoke. ¡°Can you give us some time alone to think this over?¡±

    Leopold didn¡¯t seem surprised by the request. He simply gestured with his hand, his expression unchanging. ¡°I thought you might need it,¡± he said with a brief, curt smile.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we won¡¯t hear a thing. You have up to one hour.¡±

    With a snap of his fingers, the magical circle around us flared brightly. Before we could react, an invisible barrier rose, creating an isolated space where we were left alone with our thoughts. We couldn¡¯t see or hear anything outside the circle, and anyone outside was equally cut off from us.

    Inside the circle, the tension was thick, almost suffocating. Each of us was lost in thought, trying to process Leopold¡¯s words. The air felt heavy, as if death itself was watching us, silently waiting for our decision.

    ¡°No one bathes in the same river twice,¡± Elizabeth said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft but carried a resigned sadness.

    ¡°Heraclitus, if he saw us, would be turning in his grave,¡± she added, her gaze unfocused, fixed on a distant point as though speaking more to herself than to anyone else.

    Midori, her expression distant and filled with a deep longing, murmured something in Japanese, as if whispering to herself. ¡°ËÀ¤Ï½K¤ï¤ê¤Ç¤Ï¤Ê¤¯¡¢´Î¤Î¶ÎëA¤Ø¤Îìé¤Ç¤¢¤ë.¡± (Death is not the end, but a door to the next stage.)

    Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was laden with melancholy, echoing the weight of the moment.

    Luca, his gaze thoughtful, stared at the floor before speaking, his expression marked by resignation. ¡°La morte ¨¨ l¡¯unico vero momento di libert¨¤ per un uomo.¡± (Death is the only true moment of freedom for a man.)

    He looked up at us, a bitter smile flickering across his lips. ¡°Giovanni Verga said that, but for us, it seems we¡¯re trapped in an illusion of freedom. Death is the only real release, but the price of our freedom is the pain of loss.¡± His tone carried a bitter acceptance, as though he had already made peace with the end, yet found no solace in the words he spoke.

    Nicole, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on the ground, seemed to wrestle with an inner storm. ¡°La mort n''est rien, mais vivre en silence c''est vivre dans l''enfer.¡± (Death is nothing, but to live in silence is to live in hell.)

    The words of Honor¨¦ de Balzac hung in the air as she finally lifted her eyes, her green gaze heavy with sorrow. ¡°I don¡¯t want to live without purpose, without the ones I love¡­ that would be hell. Even in death, I would rather be with them.¡± The anger in her voice was unmistakable, spilling over as she spoke.

    Carlos, introspective, spoke softly but firmly. ¡°Death is not a matter of time, but a matter of timing.¡± He quoted Kafka with clarity, the words fitting perfectly with our predicament.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter when, but rather how and why it happens. The moment death arrives may be beyond our choice, but how we face it¡ªthat¡¯s our true battle.¡±

    Finally, I felt the weight of everything we had been discussing, the gravity of our shared reality pressing down on me. I thought of something I had read long ago, a reflection that now seemed to encapsulate our situation perfectly. ¡°Death is the great equalizer, and all must inevitably face it. But we are not all equal when we do.¡±

    Tolstoy¡¯s words, which I had once considered a mere philosophical musing, now resonated with a profound truth. Our paths had intersected here; our deaths had brought us to this moment. But how we would face this choice, this crossroads¡ªthat would be our true test.

 Unknown Life Or Certain Death?

    "To think that right before deciding between life and death, here we are, playing at being philosophers," Carlos sighed with an ironic smile, running a hand through his brown hair."I guess we''ve really hit rock bottom."

    He paused, letting out a bitter laugh, but was abruptly cut off by Benjamin. With tired eyes and slumped shoulders, Benjamin looked at the ground before speaking. His voice was low, laden with a bitterness that only he seemed to fully grasp.

    "Death is the only certainty we have, and fighting against it is like fighting the wind," he quoted Marcus Aurelius, and a shadow of exhaustion crossed his face.

    "Hope is the worst of evils because it prolongs the torment of man," he continued, the Nietzschean truth floating in his mind like a bitter revelation.

    The silence that followed Benjamin''s words was heavy, until Nicole broke it, releasing what seemed to weigh on her chest. Her voice, thick with emotion, pierced the stillness.

    "I don¡¯t want to die," she said, her eyes brimming with tears, her anger flickering like a flame hard to contain. Her posture, once resolute, now faltered as the pain of the thought of disappearing without warning consumed her.

    Benjamin responded with a short, bitter laugh, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The truth is, we¡¯ve already died once," he said, a crooked smile forming on his face. But his remark didn¡¯t have the effect he¡¯d intended.

    "You know what I meant, Benjamin!" Nicole yelled, her anger boiling over, her fists clenched at her sides. Frustration burned in her eyes, as if she wanted to punch the reality that was suffocating her.

    "Calm down, everyone. Let¡¯s try to see the bigger picture," Elizabeth intervened, placing a hand on Nicole¡¯s shoulder, attempting to soothe her. Her gaze was gentle, but her stance was firm.

    "Liz is right," Luca said, his calm tone a stark contrast to the tension in the room. His steady, serious expression reflected a calculated composure. "We need to calm down."

    "Midori, are you feeling any better?" Carlos asked, turning to the girl who had been sitting silently in the corner, her pale and tense expression betraying her inner turmoil. She seemed lost in her own thoughts.

    When she answered, her voice was almost a whisper. "Yes, yes, I¡¯m better now," Midori said timidly, her beautiful gray eyes avoiding any direct contact. She nervously played with her hair, as if still processing everything that was happening.

    After some time, I realized everyone was calmer, so I decided to get straight to the point, knowing that somehow it was necessary for everyone to lay their doubts and fears on the table.

    ¡°Well, the truth is, we¡¯re facing a dilemma,¡± I began, looking at each of them. The tension was still present, but a sense of understanding was beginning to take shape. ¡°And a big one,¡± I added, glancing at Elizabeth, whose brow was furrowed in thought.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die again,¡± Elizabeth said, her voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. She looked at everyone with sincerity, a faint sadness in her blue eyes. ¡°But I¡¯ll accept whatever we all agree on,¡± she concluded with a deep sigh, her body relaxing, as if she had come to peace with herself.

    After Elizabeth¡¯s words, everyone silently nodded. The weight of her acceptance somehow brought us closer. None of us wanted to return to the void, but none of us wanted to force the decision onto anyone else.

    ¡°So then, who wants to be the first to express their opinion?¡± I asked, stepping forward.

    The room, though heavy with tension, was now more focused. Each of us, silent, seemed to be weighing our next move. The future was uncertain, but at least here, together, we had the chance to decide what to do with our lives¡ªor what was left of them.

    ¡°No one? Then I¡¯ll go first.¡± I took a deep breath and looked at everyone. The tension still hung in the air, but as I spoke my mind, I felt an odd sense of relief.

    ¡°I want to stay. I don¡¯t want to remain dead. And, if possible, I¡¯d like to explore this magical world with all of you.¡±

    ¡®I won¡¯t fucking return to that white hell again,¡¯ I thought to myself, a wave of frustration rising as I recalled the feeling of endless emptiness.

    Carlos, who had been silent until then, looked at me and gave a brief nod of agreement. ¡°I¡¯m with Dalton. Aside from certain things that were¡­ told to us, the rest makes sense. I refuse to stay dead,¡± he said firmly. He had already made up his mind. His expression was clear and resolute.

    Benjamin stepped forward, his face showing the weight of deep contemplation. ¡°And what guarantee do we have that we¡¯ll be treated well here? This isn¡¯t a fantasy novel¡ªthis is the real world.¡±

    His voice, usually sharper, carried genuine doubt, as if he was trying to fit his logic into something that felt incomprehensible. His hands went to his head in frustration, a gesture of helplessness as he tried to make sense of it all.

    ¡°We died, and that¡¯s that. Now you all want to trust the words of some suspicious old man with pinky eyes?¡± Benjamin¡¯s tone revealed that he was somehow detached from the situation, as if he was still trying to find solid ground in a world that had lost all sense of normalcy.

    Midori, with her gaze lowered and a subtle tension in her posture, spoke, as though she had finally found a way to express what she was feeling. ¡°I want to see my family again... but, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s possible. Besides, there¡¯s no guarantee we¡¯ll be treated badly either.¡± She hesitated before finishing, but her sincerity was unmistakable.

    ¡°Well, I want to stay too,¡± Nicole said, her green eyes fixed on Benjamin. ¡°I don¡¯t want to disappear.¡± Her expression was determined, though a touch of sadness lingered in her eyes. She was resolute in her choice.

    Luca gave a small smirk and stretched, crossing his arms behind his head. ¡°Honestly, it doesn¡¯t matter much to me. I¡¯ve already died once; it won¡¯t hurt to die again. Besides, I¡¯d like to explore this world. Who knows? Maybe alchemy is real here.¡±

    There was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, as if he was more excited about the possibilities than worried about the consequences. His lightheartedness was a stark contrast to the gravity of the choices we were all making.

    ¡°Well, I guess the majority wins,¡± Elizabeth said, glancing at everyone with an expression that suggested she was trying to piece together what was going through each of our minds.

    ¡°Hey, no dodging. What¡¯s your opinion, Liz?¡± I asked her, keeping my gaze fixed on her. It was a direct question, no room for evasion.

 Decision

    Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. She looked at all of us before finally speaking, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.

    ¡°Actually, I really want to stay,¡± she said, her voice steady but carrying a sincerity that couldn¡¯t be ignored. ¡°Sorry, everyone, but it¡¯s not for the reasons you mentioned. I was just tired of our world. The past was interesting, but not enough... Politics were boring, history was full of mysteries, but it was practically impossible to explore them openly. But here... I think there are immense opportunities. I want to uncover the secrets of this world.¡±

    Her eyes sparkled with a fire that few of us could fully understand, but we all knew she was speaking from her soul. Elizabeth didn¡¯t just want to survive¡ªshe wanted something more.

    The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of our own thoughts. Each of us was facing a difficult choice: to stay in this strange, unknown world full of complexities and mysteries, or to return to the eternal void. But in that moment, one thing became clear: none of us seemed ready to give up.

    Benjamin, the only one still showing reluctance, let out a heavy sigh. He stared at the ground, his shoulders tense.

    ¡°Accept reality or cling to a crazy hope,¡± he murmured under his breath, voicing the battle raging in his mind.

    ¡°I must be going mad,¡± he said finally, his amber eyes glancing up, reflecting each of our faces.

    He lifted his gaze fully, his expression weary but tinged with a hint of determination. ¡°Well¡­¡± he began, his voice carrying an almost cynical resignation, but beneath it was a faint spark of hope. ¡°I guess the guild¡ªRound Table¡ªwill unravel the mysteries of Asgardia, then.¡±

    For a brief moment, no one responded. Then a relieved smile spread across Nicole¡¯s face, her green eyes shining with a mix of relief and excitement.

    ¡°Well, it looks like we¡¯re all in this together now,¡± she said, crossing her arms as if trying to conceal her emotions.

    Luca let out a short laugh and leaned his head back, as if the weight of the tension had finally lifted. ¡°Knew you wouldn¡¯t leave us, Ben,¡± he said, throwing a light punch at Benjamin¡¯s shoulder¡ªa gesture that was equal parts teasing and camaraderie.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "I think now I could finally be a real witch, right? To think we¡¯d end up in an Isekai?" Midori commented, trying to see the bright side of things.

    "True, dreaming about it is one thing. But the real thing is really different," I said, now less worried, my biggest fear already overcome.

    "If we''re staying, then we have to make it worthwhile," Elizabeth affirmed, the spark of determination still present in her blue eyes. She seemed to already be making plans in her mind.

    Carlos let out a short laugh as he ran his hand through his slightly wavy brown hair, messing it up even more. "Round Table Guild, huh? Seems like it¡¯s been hundreds of years since I last heard that name," he said, his tone a mix of nostalgia and playfulness.

    The atmosphere still held a slight tension, but something was starting to shift. The uncertainty, although still there, was being overshadowed by something stronger: a shared purpose. We decided to use the time we had left to distract ourselves, pushing away the shadows of negative emotions that surrounded us. We laughed, chatted, and for a few moments, forgot about the situation we were in.

    As I watched the group get excited with absurd ideas and elaborate plans about what to do in this new world, I couldn''t help but think. ¡®I really love this crazy bunch.¡¯ The sense of belonging, even in the middle of chaos, was undeniable.

    After a while, the magical barrier that had isolated us began to glow, descending to the ground like a dome opening. Now, we could see the three men again ¡ª Leopold, Oswald, and King Augustus. All of them were watching us with expressions ranging from curiosity to expectation.

    "So, have you made your decision?" Augustus asked, his deep voice echoing through the hall. He still maintained that rigid posture, but his golden eyes gleamed with contained curiosity.

    Elizabeth stepped forward before anyone could answer. She looked directly at the king, her blue eyes glowing with a mix of excitement and challenge.

    "Yes, Your Majesty," she began, her voice firm and confident. "From now on, we will be citizens of Allyth¨¦on, willingly... as long as, of course, our rights and wills are respected." A mischievous smile formed on her lips, full of a boldness that only she could pull off.

    Augustus raised an eyebrow, surprised by the bold response, but he didn¡¯t seem bothered. On the contrary, his lips curled into something that almost looked like a smile. "Oh," he murmured, almost to himself, his eyes assessing the young woman before him. "Interesting."

    Leopold stepped forward, breaking the moment of tension. "Very well, it seems a new chapter begins for all of us. Let me be the first to welcome you to the kingdom of Allyth¨¦on," he said with a slight bow, though his tone carried a hint of relief.

    I watched the king for a moment longer. ¡®He really isn¡¯t used to being challenged like this,¡¯ I thought, but something in his expression suggested that perhaps, just perhaps, he appreciated the boldness that Elizabeth had shown.

 Bonding With The World (1)

    After we made our decision, the tension lingered in the air, heavy and oppressive, like a storm cloud on the verge of breaking. Leopold and Oswald led us forward without hesitation, moving with quick and confident strides. The throne room, with all its grandeur, now felt like a distant memory, almost like a dream dissolving into the ether. The gilded columns and luxurious tapestries had given way to rough stone walls¡ªcold, harsh, and unyielding¡ªas we descended deeper into the subterranean depths.

    With every step, the echo of our footsteps grew deeper, more muted, as if we were leaving the world of light behind and drawing closer to something unknown. The air, once soft and laden with incense, grew dense and damp, clinging to us like the earth itself sought to pull us into its embrace.

    As we descended the stone stairs and moved through winding corridors, the warmth of the upper chambers gave way to the chill of the rock surrounding us. The flickering light of the torches that lit our path cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an eerie, dreamlike atmosphere.

    The scent of damp earth and moss mingled faintly with the tang of rusting metal. Everything here felt ancient, forgotten¡ªa place untouched by human presence for what seemed like decades, or, even centuries. The silence was almost suffocating, and even the sound of our breathing felt muffled, absorbed by the endless expanse of the underground labyrinth.

    At last, after what felt like an eternity, we arrived in a vast yet desolate chamber. The stone walls were draped with dark moss and bore the scars of time, as though, time had eroded what had once been a place of grandeur. The ceiling loomed high and uneven, giving the impression that the space extended endlessly into the shadows. The air was heavy with an ancient melancholy, wrapping around us like a shroud.

    In the center of the room stood a stone altar, imposing in its stark simplicity. Resting upon it was a translucent sphere mounted on a pedestal of stone. Within the sphere, a crystal glowed faintly, pulsing with a soft, rhythmic light. The darkness that had cloaked the room began to retreat as a series of lights flared to life. One by one, lamps along the pillars illuminated, their golden glow casting vibrant hues onto the worn walls.

    ¡°Is this¡­ electricity?¡± Carlos asked, his curious gaze fixed on the pyramid-shaped lamps that lined the pillars, as though trying to decipher the source of their power.

    Oswald, standing at the forefront, seemed entirely unbothered by the sight. He puffed out his chest with quiet confidence, a faint smile playing on his lips, and replied, ¡°These lamps are powered by light crystals. They¡¯re called luminary crystals and have the ability to store and release mana from the light element. They¡¯ve been used since ancient times in many places, both as sources of illumination and to strengthen magical circles.¡±

    He glanced at Carlos with a faintly mocking smile. ¡°Electricity, you say? What¡¯s that?¡± Oswald asked, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion, as though grappling with a concept entirely alien to him.

    <hr>

    Even after Carlos explained it to him, Oswald¡¯s reaction was flat. ¡°Never heard of it. Here, energy comes from more... natural sources, shall we say. Magic and elements, rather than wires and devices.¡± The innocence with which he spoke about something that had revolutionized our world was almost touching. For a brief moment, I wondered what it would be like to live in a world where magic replaced the inventions we relied on.

    As Oswald conversed with Carlos, my attention shifted back to the altar. Moving closer, we noticed that around the base of the translucent sphere were twelve small circles, each etched with distinct symbols. They were arranged in a precise pattern, forming what appeared to be part of an intricate magical diagram. The delicate, flawless lines seemed to hum with their own quiet power. A shiver ran down my spine. ¡°These must be other magic circles,¡± I thought, scrutinizing the symbols. ¡°What effects could they have? What forces are being summoned here?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Leopold, who had been leading us, finally turned to face the group. His expression was stern and focused, and his grave tone broke the heavy silence. ¡°This is the place,¡± he said, his voice echoing off the stone walls like a distant whisper. ¡°This is where we begin.¡±

    ¡°Begin what?¡± I asked, confused.

    Leopold didn¡¯t hesitate, answering with a confidence that made it sound straightforward. ¡°Simple. To safeguard your lives, we must connect you to this world. The process is necessary to ensure your bodies and souls remain bound to what we call the ¡®tissue¡¯ of this realm. Without it, the link that keeps you tethered between the physical and spiritual planes will break, and, as I mentioned before, your souls will follow their natural course.¡±

    The explanation didn¡¯t entirely make sense to me, so I tried to frame it in terms I could grasp. ¡°It¡¯s like we¡¯ve been disconnected from a wireless network¡ªsomething like Wi-Fi in our world,¡± I thought, ¡°and what Leopold is trying to do is reconnect us so we can stay alive here. Otherwise, we¡¯ll be... offline.¡±

    Leopold¡¯s explanation finally began to click, but a lingering question hung in everyone¡¯s minds. Elizabeth, with her sharp analytical gaze, broke the flow of the conversation with a critical question.

    ¡°But this only applies to our souls, right?¡± she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. ¡°This process lets us take advantage of what this world has to offer and prevents our souls from being destroyed. But what about our bodies?¡±

    Leopold nodded, understanding the point of her inquiry. ¡°Precisely. The first process is essential. By synchronizing you with this world¡¯s ¡®tissue,¡¯ we not only strengthen the bond between your souls and the physical plane but also activate a type of protective magic. This spell will preserve your bodies, keeping them viable for a longer period. However,¡± he continued, his tone becoming more serious, ¡°for this connection to be true and permanent, we will require a second bond¡ªone that functions as a ¡®true link¡¯ between your bodies and souls.¡±

    Leopold paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. ¡°Without this process, as I mentioned before, your bodies¡ªeven if your hearts keep beating¡ªwould gradually deteriorate over time. The magic will create a fusion that will keep you intact, allowing you to live normally while remaining connected to the essence of this world.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± Elizabeth began, doubt threading her voice, ¡°this still doesn¡¯t fully answer the question of what will happen to our bodies and souls in the long term, does it?¡±

    Leopold offered an enigmatic smile. ¡°The rest will be explained in more detail after the first two processes. Don¡¯t worry¡ªyou won¡¯t even notice the transitions.¡±

    Before anyone could press him further, the room¡¯s doors opened silently, and King Augustus entered with an imposing presence. The atmosphere shifted immediately, and all eyes turned to him.

    ¡°Leopold, Oswald, is everything ready?¡± the king asked, his deep, commanding voice resonating through the chamber.

    ¡°Yes, my king,¡± Leopold replied firmly, gesturing for us to step closer to the altar.

    He pointed to the translucent sphere in the center of the room, now glowing with a vibrant intensity. The soft light pulsed rhythmically, as though mirroring the beats of our hearts. Its glow seemed to flow outward, and the very air around it hummed with an almost tangible resonance.

    ¡°Please, one at a time, place your hands on the sphere,¡± Leopold instructed, his voice calm but laced with a subtle urgency. ¡°Not only will this fulfill the necessary process, but it will also help us determine the best path for your development in this world.¡±

    The tension in the room was thick, pressing down on us. No one moved. It felt as if the very walls were waiting for our decision, holding their breath in anticipation.

    Then Elizabeth, breaking the silence with a sharp movement, stepped forward.

    ¡°Well, since no one else is going, I¡¯ll be the first,¡± she said with a faintly sarcastic smile, her eyes glinting with the unwavering determination that defined her. With a firm step, she approached the sphere and extended her hand toward it.

 Bonding With The World (2)

    ¡°I see at least one of you isn¡¯t a coward,¡± Oswald remarked, his deep voice tinged with amusement, but there was a hint of respect in it. He watched Elizabeth intently, a faint smile playing on his lips as if analyzing the process about to unfold.

    Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, her fingers grazing the surface of the sphere. The instant she made contact, the sphere flared to life with a golden glow, radiating an intense light that engulfed the entire room. The brilliance lasted only a few seconds, but it left us all speechless. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light vanished, and the sphere returned to its gentle, steady glow.

    ¡°Next,¡± Leopold said, his calm tone a stark contrast to the overwhelming intensity of the moment. He seemed to expect us to move through the process without hesitation.

    Elizabeth frowned slightly, her gaze fixed on the sphere as if trying to make sense of what had just happened. ¡°Huh? That was... strange. I didn¡¯t even feel anything,¡± she said, her voice laced with a hint of frustration. She turned to Leopold, clearly expecting an explanation.

    Leopold offered a small, knowing smile, as though he had anticipated her reaction. ¡°I told you it would be quick, and that there was no need to worry,¡± he replied, his voice smooth and almost reassuring. ¡°The process is subtle, yet highly effective. The sphere¡¯s purpose isn¡¯t to cause discomfort; its work is more... internal.¡±

    Oswald chuckled softly, his low laugh suggesting he found Elizabeth¡¯s reaction mildly entertaining.

    After Elizabeth, we stepped forward one by one, following the order we had entered the guild in the game. With each touch of the sphere, a distinct light filled the room. It was as if the sphere resonated with the unique essence of each of our souls, reflecting it in a vibrant, personalized display.

    When Benjamin placed his hand on the sphere, the light that emanated from it was a rich, earthen brown, streaked with deep red and hints of black, creating a grounded yet ominous glow.

    Carlos followed. As his hand connected with the sphere, the light it released was a deep, shadowy black, interspersed with silver sparks that shimmered like tiny stars in motion.

    Next was Midori, her demeanor calm and composed. The sphere responded to her touch with a deep, serene blue, pure and almost celestial, softened by gentle strokes of white that spread outward like drifting clouds.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Luca approached confidently, his steps steady as he placed his hand on the sphere. The light that emerged was a vibrant, lively green, interwoven with vivid purple hues that pulsed rhythmically, as if alive and brimming with energy.

    Nicole, her gaze fixed intently on the sphere, placed her hand on it with a determined expression. The light that emerged was a vivid crimson, streaked with shades of orange and yellow, like a flame struggling to stay alive, flickering with resilience.

    Finally, it was my turn. My heart pounded, a whirlwind of emotions stirring in my chest as I cautiously approached the sphere. My hand trembled slightly¡ªa blend of nervousness and curiosity. When I finally placed my palm on the translucent surface, something remarkable happened.

    A deep, otherworldly glow emerged from the sphere. Unlike the others, my light wasn¡¯t vibrant or radiant. Instead, it was a profound blackness, enigmatic and mesmerizing, as if I were touching the very essence of the void. Within the darkness, countless specks of color shimmered like distant stars scattered across a vast, hidden galaxy. The glow seemed to have a life of its own, expanding and swirling, evoking an overwhelming sense of immensity.

    ¡®It¡¯s¡­ beautiful,¡¯ I thought, though there was an unsettling quality to its beauty.

    Time seemed to slow, as if the moment existed outside my understanding. I couldn¡¯t look away; the black light, filled with flickering colors, dominated my vision, immersing me in its endless depths.

    Finally, the glow began to fade, and the room returned to its natural state. A faint sense of relief washed over me, though I still felt deeply affected by the experience.

    Leopold, clearly pleased with the outcome, paused briefly before speaking. ¡°Well, the easy part is done. Now comes the boring part,¡± he said with a subtle smile.

    His tone shifted, becoming more serious. ¡°This sphere, beyond what I¡¯ve already explained, also allows us to glimpse your potential in various areas¡ªstarting with elemental affinity. And in your case, I must say it¡¯s remarkable. You all possess affinities with nearly all elements, with most of them ranking from intermediate to high.¡± He looked at us expectantly, as if hoping we¡¯d grasp the significance of this revelation.

    ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s a good thing?¡± I asked, though I had a faint idea of the answer.

    ¡°In our world, there are various types of magic, but the most common and widely used is elemental magic,¡± Leopold explained, his smile widening slightly. ¡°To use it, one must have an affinity for the elements. These affinities are graded¡ªranging from inferior, common, intermediate, high, and perfect.¡±

    Leopold¡¯s gaze grew sharper, more analytical. ¡°Additionally, the sphere provides insight into your academic and physical potential to some extent. This helps us guide you toward paths that suit you best for your development. It also allows us to determine the optimal genetics for your new bodies.¡±

    A heavy silence descended upon the group, tension thickening in the air. Then, Benjamin broke the quiet, his expression a mix of confusion and alarm. ¡°Wait¡­ new bodies?¡± he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief, as though struggling to process the full weight of what Leopold had just revealed.

 Mythical Magic

    Leopold nodded slowly, his expression growing more somber as he continued his explanation. ¡°Yes. The synchronization process we¡¯ll perform between you and this world creates a deeper connection, but it also demands physical adaptation. It¡¯s not just your souls that must align with the essence of this world¡ªyour bodies will need to be altered as well. This transformation is essential to ensure you can coexist harmoniously with this new environment.¡± He paused, as if carefully weighing his words before proceeding. ¡°Furthermore, you¡¯ll need to adopt new identities. This is crucial to avoid drawing suspicion, both from neighboring nations and from internal factions within the kingdom.¡±

    A moment of silence followed as we absorbed the gravity of his words. The idea of having our identities completely changed felt surreal and unsettling, but Leopold showed no hesitation as he pressed on.

    ¡°Essentially, you will revert to the ages of nine or ten. You¡¯ll receive new identities, new families, and even new memories. And to be clear, this last point applies to everyone involved in the process,¡± Leopold explained, his voice steady and deliberate, though there was an underlying intensity that left no doubt about the seriousness of the situation.

    Augustus, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke, his tone calm and reassuring. ¡°This is all done with your utmost safety in mind. The reconfiguration of your identities is a precaution to ensure that no one can trace any connection to your past or to who you truly are.¡±

    The room was steeped in a heavy, tense silence, and that was when my thoughts began to spiral, consumed by questions I couldn¡¯t hold back any longer. I needed clarity¡ªneeded to understand what this truly meant. ¡°But¡­ how will you do that?¡± I asked, struggling to contain the flood of doubts. ¡°Are we going to become completely different people?¡±

    Leopold turned his gaze to me, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the question I was really asking. He offered a small, knowing smile, as though he had anticipated this very moment. ¡°Yes and no,¡± he began, speaking slowly and carefully to ensure we grasped his meaning.

    ¡°You will still be yourselves, at your core. Your essence, your thoughts, your feelings¡ªthey won¡¯t be erased. However, the age you¡¯ll assume will be that of a nine- or ten-year-old, and your new identities will be tied to those younger versions of you.¡±

    He paused, his voice gaining clarity as he continued. ¡°You¡¯ll have new names, new families, new connections¡­ new homes. And finally, new bodies and appearances. During the transformation and adaptation process, we¡¯ll incorporate specific genetic markers from the families you¡¯ll be assigned to, ensuring that you¡¯ll inherit abilities unique to those bloodlines. This will help solidify your new lives and prevent any suspicion from arising.¡±

    The faces around me were laden with bewilderment, yet there was something in the air that kept us all attentive. This process¡ªof resetting our lives, of becoming new versions of ourselves¡ªwas impossible to fully grasp. But one thing was clear: it was the only way to ensure our safety in this new world.

    ¡°So, if we¡¯re going to become new people, how will we know who we really are?¡± Benjamin asked, his voice tinged with both worry and curiosity.

    Leopold, once again, answered without hesitation, his voice steady and calm, as though the complexities of the situation were second nature to him. ¡°You won¡¯t lose who you are. The memories you carry from your previous lives won¡¯t be erased. There will be a gradual blending of those memories with the new ones you¡¯ll be given. Your skills will also adapt, shaped by the new realities you¡¯ll inhabit. It might feel disorienting at first, but over time, it will become second nature. This transition is necessary to complete the physical, mental, and emotional adaptation.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I glanced around, taking in everyone¡¯s reactions. On each face was a mixture of trepidation and resignation, but also a growing acceptance. Despite the strangeness of what lay ahead, there was an unspoken understanding that there was no turning back. Leopold¡¯s words, though cryptic, seemed to guide us, pointing to a path that was difficult but unavoidable¡ªa way to understand how we would live in this new world.

    ¡°But you still haven¡¯t answered the question,¡± Benjamin pressed, his voice taut. ¡°How?¡±

    Leopold took a deep breath, his gaze serious. ¡°It involves a combination of High-Level magic and something above what we call the pinnacle of magic¡ªArchmage. The magic we¡¯ll use is of a Mythological Tier.¡±

    The room fell silent as everyone tried to process the enormity of his statement.

    ¡°Essentially,¡± Leopold continued, ¡°we will employ an ancient scroll imbued with a powerful spell of this caliber. Additionally, it will draw upon the residual mana of an Archmage of the same tier. This magic is a one-time use spell capable of altering the memories of everyone within the kingdom. As for the rest of the world, you might ask: how will they not notice your sudden inclusion in the fabric of history?¡±

    The air grew heavy as we all pondered this revelation. I was beginning to understand the weight of the information, but there was still something that didn¡¯t add up. That was when Augustus, his calm demeanor unshaken, provided the missing piece.

    ¡°No,¡± he said with precision, ¡°that¡¯s because this plan has been twelve years in the making. We discovered a way to extend the reach of this magic to influence every sentient being in this world.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Leopold¡¯s question echoed through the room, strategic in its timing. He left the doubt hanging in the air, heightening the tension even further.

    ¡°Well,¡± Leopold continued with a mischievous smile, ¡°we¡¯ll be using a branch from the World Tree¡ªone that has been safeguarded in the Royal Treasury.¡± He paused, savoring the suspense in the room. ¡°Although, you still don¡¯t fully understand what that means.¡±

    Augustus followed, his expression calm but with an undercurrent of gravity. ¡°As a precaution, rumors have already begun circulating among noble families¡ªstories of hidden children, confined to their homes due to illness, bastards kept in secrecy, or others shrouded in mystery. Don¡¯t be alarmed if you find yourselves linked to such tales or approached by royal agents. Simply tread carefully.¡±

    We exchanged uneasy glances, struggling to grasp the enormity of what was unfolding. We had been chosen¡ªwithout our knowledge¡ªto take the places of people who had never existed. Our pasts would be rewritten, our memories reshaped to fit into a narrative we couldn¡¯t yet fully comprehend.

    ¡°So,¡± Elizabeth finally said, breaking the tense silence, ¡°we¡¯re... being crafted to play a part in some elaborate lie?¡± Her voice wavered between skepticism and distrust, though curiosity lingered beneath her words.

    Leopold met her gaze, his expression steady yet not unkind. ¡°No, it¡¯s not a lie. It¡¯s a new reality, one that must be built to ensure the kingdom¡¯s peace and stability. You won¡¯t be pretending to belong to it¡ªyou will belong to it. Your lives, your stories, everything will be rewritten to align seamlessly with this new order.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± I hesitated, the weight of the revelation sinking in. ¡°What happens to those who are already here? To the lives and stories that already exist?¡±

    Leopold gestured broadly, his tone fluid and matter-of-fact. ¡°The kingdom has measures to ensure that no one notices any inconsistencies. Memories will be adjusted, recalibrated, so that what existed before your arrival becomes known only to those who must know. No memories will be lost¡ªyours or anyone else¡¯s. They¡¯ll simply be reshaped, reformulated, so that every piece of this new reality fits perfectly. In your case, new memories will be seamlessly integrated into your lives.¡±

    Oswald cut in abruptly, his tone direct and pragmatic. ¡°Enough talk. Let¡¯s proceed.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, there¡¯s no time to waste,¡± Leopold agreed, his voice firm.. ¡°Any further questions can be addressed once the process is complete.¡±

    With that, the room fell silent once more, the enormity of our fates looming like a shadow over all of us.

 The Last Process

    He then began calling out the names, his gaze locking on each of us as he spoke.

    "Elizabeth, primary elemental affinities: light and darkness. You will be assigned to the Allytharion family." He paused briefly, as if the surname held special significance. I stole a quick glance at King Augustus, sensing a peculiar connection between Leopold''s words and the royal family¡¯s name itself. Augustus¡¯s satisfied smile left no room for doubt: the king knew exactly what was unfolding.

    "Benjamin, primary elemental affinities: earth, fire, and water. You¡¯ll join the Magnum family."

    "Carlos, primary elemental affinities: darkness and metal. You¡¯ll be placed with the Duskweld family."

    "Midori, primary elemental affinity: water. You¡¯re assigned to the Cromwell family."

    "Luca, primary elemental affinities: water, fire, plant, and wind. You¡¯ll join the Snaken family."

    "Nicole, primary elemental affinity: fire. You¡¯ll go to the Phoenix family."

    "Dalton, primary elemental affinities: earth, thunder, and wind. You¡¯ll be placed with the Dracknum family."

    ¡°Remember,¡± Oswald continued, his tone softer but still firm, as though trying to ease the growing anxiety that was spreading through the group. ¡°What I¡¯ve listed are simply your perfect elemental affinities. The rest, you will uncover with time. There are many types of magic beyond what you¡¯ve been told. Those of you with only one perfect affinity should not feel discouraged. Sometimes, a high-level affinity can surpass others in sheer power. You may even discover that your talents lie in special types of magic¡ªmatrix magic, alchemy, necromancy, curses, spatial manipulation, gravity magic, psychokinesis¡­ It¡¯s far too early to know for sure, but each of you holds immense potential.¡±

    He swept his gaze across the group, his expression steady and encouraging, as though trying to ensure his words had the desired effect. The faces around me seemed less anxious now, though a heavy tension still hung in the air. Nobody looked entirely comfortable with what was about to happen, but there was a growing, if reluctant, trust in Oswald.

    ¡°Now, quickly. Step into the magical circles I¡¯ll indicate,¡± Oswald instructed, his voice growing sharper, more urgent.

    I was the last to be guided toward the circle. The others were already in position, their faces serious, their bodies visibly tense.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see each other in a few hours,¡± Oswald said, stepping back quickly.

    The space around me fell into silence, the echo of his words lingering faintly before fading away.

    Suddenly, an intense light erupted from the circle, and before I could react, everything around me warped. A whirlwind of colors and shapes overwhelmed my vision, and I felt an unbearable pressure on my senses. The environment morphed into a blurry haze, leaving me momentarily unable to comprehend what was happening. The vertigo was overwhelming, and my muscles tensed involuntarily, as if my body instinctively resisted the unknown force pulling me in.

    When clarity finally returned, I realized the light was gone, replaced by impenetrable darkness. I found myself in an unbearably confined space, suffocatingly claustrophobic. The air felt heavy, thick, as though I was trapped in a sarcophagus¡ªor worse, a coffin. Panic began to creep in. The walls¡ªif they could even be called walls¡ªpressed tightly against me, compressing every inch of my body as if determined to crush me entirely.

    ¡°Wh... Wha...?¡± My voice came out muffled, but before I could finish speaking, a sharp, searing pain lanced through my consciousness. Something was piercing my skin¡ªthin, needle-like objects stabbing with surgical precision. I tried to thrash, but my body was paralyzed, locked in place as though bound by invisible chains.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A cold, viscous sensation began to spread from the points where the needles had entered. The pain was excruciating, accompanied by an icy tingling that expanded rapidly, as if something foreign was being injected directly into my veins.

    The agony intensified, becoming unbearable¡ªa crushing weight on my mind. It felt as though my skin was being torn apart from the inside out, a visceral sensation so extreme it churned my stomach. My body began to tremble uncontrollably, my muscles contracting in desperate, futile resistance to the pain.

    ¡°....., ¡­.. ,¡­..¡±

    I tried to scream, but no sound came. The suffocating stillness of my surroundings, coupled with the escalating torment, threatened to drive me insane. The distorted images around me started to converge into a single pulsating point of light, hammering at my mind like the rhythmic pounding of a drum.

    And then, at the peak of my agony, something even more horrifying began to occur. The pain, already unbearable, escalated to unimaginable levels. I could feel my bones cracking, the sharp, unrelenting pain radiating throughout my body. It was as though every joint, every fragment of bone was being shattered and reassembled in an endless, tormenting cycle.

    My muscles seized and stretched, snapping like taut wires on the verge of breaking, while my flesh tore and healed in rapid succession, as if an unseen force were relentlessly reshaping me. My eyes bulged in their sockets, every pulse of pain pounding in my head like a relentless storm, distorting my vision into a vortex of light and shadow.

    My nails felt like they were ripping out of my fingers, grotesquely elongating as if being forcibly reshaped. My face, once familiar, now seemed to melt and reform¡ªskin stretching and contracting as though it were wax under the heat of a flame. My teeth sank painfully into my lips, the force of my own jaw threatening to crush itself.

    Every muscle in my body spasmed and slackened in a frenetic rhythm, as though molded by invisible hands intent on breaking and rebuilding me over and over again.

    It was unnatural. Under normal circumstances, I should have lost consciousness long ago, but for some reason, I remained awake. The pain was so excruciating that, in any other situation, my body would have surrendered to unconsciousness. Yet something prevented it. It was as if I wasn¡¯t allowed to rest, forced instead to endure every detail of the agony, every fragment of torment unraveling within me.

    I couldn¡¯t see a thing. The darkness surrounding me was absolute, but every sensation was amplified. The sound of my bones cracking reverberated in my mind, and I felt as if my body were a toy, disassembled and reassembled by hands that worked with deliberate, torturous slowness.

    ¡°This¡­ this is part of the process,¡± I tried to convince myself, though my mind was teetering on the edge of collapse. I repeated the words like a mantra, a desperate attempt to hold onto some semblance of sanity. I knew this wasn¡¯t merely pain¡ªit was transformation. But understanding that didn¡¯t make the experience any less terrifying.

    <hr>

    Time stretched into an eternity, but at last, the pressure began to relent. The pain receded¡ªnot entirely, but enough to grant a fleeting sense of relief. My breathing was labored, my chest rising and falling as if I¡¯d run a marathon.

    I tried to move, but at first, my body refused to respond. Every muscle felt stiff, as though frozen solid by the ordeal. With monumental effort, I managed to make my arms obey. Slowly, I lifted them, and my hands brushed against something solid and rough¡ªa surface that felt like wood.

    ¡°Is¡­ is this a coffin?¡± The thought sent a jolt of panic through me. My hands pressed against the wooden surface, applying as much strength as I could muster. The lid creaked under the pressure, the sound heavy and grating, and with one final push, I managed to force it open. The noise rang out like thunder, and the light that spilled in was almost blinding.

    I slowly raised my torso, gasping for air as my mind struggled to process what was happening. The surroundings were strange and unsettling. The walls, made of smooth black stone, were etched with glowing runes that shimmered faintly, casting an eerie blue light across the chamber.

    The air was cold and heavy, charged with an energy that sent shivers down my spine. I was in a relatively spacious room, but it felt alive, as if the very walls were aware of my presence.

    Yet something wasn¡¯t right. Even after several minutes, a lingering sense of disorientation clung to me. The dizziness refused to fade completely, and my perception of the world felt¡­ altered. That was when the realization struck me:

    The world had changed.

 Welcome to Your New Self

    My vision was incredibly sharp, almost unreal. Colors were more vivid, every detail seemed to leap out at me. I could see the runes on the wall with astonishing clarity, their intricate forms glowing as if they were being drawn in that very moment. Distant objects, once blurred, were now perfectly visible, as though my sight had been adjusted to capture every nuance.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t normal¡­¡± I murmured, my voice sounding strange and unrecognizable. It was childlike, hoarse, as if I¡¯d spent hours screaming. The words echoed through the cold chamber, amplifying my confusion. My heart was still racing as I tried to process what was happening, each beat pounding like a drum in my ears.

    Once again, an unnatural calm overtook me. Strange, I thought, as a growing sense of unease took hold.

    Slowly, I placed my feet on the stone floor. The icy surface against my skin sent an immediate shiver through my entire body, jolting me back to reality. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my heart, but as I stood up fully, I almost toppled forward. My legs wobbled, and I had to steady myself against the open coffin to avoid a disastrous fall.

    ¡®What¡¯s happening to me?¡¯ I thought, my gaze settling on the bottom of the coffin. The sense of strangeness only intensified. Something was terribly off.

    It¡¯s too close, I reflected. Even though I was kneeling, the distance between me and the coffin¡¯s bottom shouldn¡¯t have felt so unnaturally small.

    With a sudden push, I turned to look at my legs. My feet¡­ they were small, absurdly small. A cold shock ran down my spine. I raised my hands in front of me, staring at my palms. They were so delicate, so tiny, that even compared to those of a ten-year-old child, they would still seem minuscule¡ªalmost unreal.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be¡­¡± I whispered, the hoarse voice echoing again. The shock began to give way to a dawning realization.

    ¡®They said we¡¯d be about ten years old¡­ But I didn¡¯t think they meant it this literally.¡¯

    My heart raced as a nervous curiosity took over. I scanned the room until my eyes landed on a mirror affixed to one of the chamber¡¯s walls. It was large, its ornate frame softly gleaming under the blue light of the runes. I knew I needed to see my reflection, to confirm what I was feeling.

    Moving with difficulty, I took my first steps. My balance felt off, as if this body wasn¡¯t mine. Every movement required effort, and the sensation of being out of control was frustrating. Even so, I forced myself to continue, leaning on objects when necessary. With great effort, I finally reached the mirror.

    When I stood before it, the sight left me speechless. My face... it wasn¡¯t mine. It was the face of a child. Small, with large, golden eyes that glowed intensely under the chamber¡¯s dim light. My hair was dark and messy, slightly wavy, with subtle purple hues that reflected the light around me. My skin was tanned, lighter than before, with a smooth, almost flawless appearance.

    ¡°Impossible...¡± I murmured, touching my reflection. The childish voice sounded again, confirming that this was, indeed, me. My old self¡ªboth as an adult and as a child¡ªlooked nothing like this new identity. ¡®They... changed everything.¡¯

    As I studied every detail, a strange sense of admiration began to creep in. ¡®I¡¯m... cuter than before. If I were on Earth, I could easily become a model or something.¡¯

    The fleeting thought brought a small smile to my lips, but before I could explore the idea further, a violent pain erupted in my head.

    It was as if a flood of information was being poured into my mind without warning. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, but the images continued to invade my consciousness. Voices, faces, landscapes, places I had never seen before... they all blended together in an overwhelming cacophony. It was too much. Too fast, too intense, too painful.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°STOP! STOP! STOP!¡± I screamed, my voice echoing in the chamber, but there was no way to halt the process. My hands instinctively clutched at my head, trying to alleviate the pressure, but the pain was relentless¡ªworse than anything I had ever experienced. It was unnatural, as though this headache surpassed even the agony of my entire body being reconstructed.

    <hr>

    ¡°...¡±

    When it finally ended, I was on my knees, my head pressed against the ground, gasping for air. My breathing was heavy, my body trembling. I felt sweat trickling down my forehead as I struggled to organize my thoughts. The memories, once a chaotic whirlwind, were now settling, like dust after a storm. They weren¡¯t mine... but now they felt as though they were.

    It was then that the chamber responded. A low, resonant sound echoed through the walls, as if the room itself were alive. The runes began to glow more brightly, casting dancing reflections across the black stone. The floor trembled slightly, and a sensation of pulsing energy filled the air.

    "Welcome to your new beginning," Leopold''s animated voice resonated, pausing as if to allow the words to seep deeply into my mind.

    Still kneeling on the ground, the cold of the stone seeped through my hands¡ªa disturbing contrast to the growing warmth in my chest. Gasping for air, I tried to organize the chaos of thoughts and memories swirling in my mind, like random fragments of information that now seemed to intertwine with my being. My eyes slowly drifted upward, settling once more on the mirror before me. The figure reflected there was me, yet something about it felt strange. A blend of fascination and unease stirred within me, as if something deep inside was shifting, transforming.

    My gaze turned toward the man beside me. This time, I noticed something I hadn¡¯t seen before¡ªa pinkish, radiant, almost ethereal aura surrounding him. It was beautiful but intimidating, like a silent and powerful presence enveloping his being. The captivating glow contrasted sharply with the commanding aura he exuded, creating a palpable tension in the air.

    Leopold noticed my distraction, and his voice carried a tone of pride as he murmured, "Ah, I see the Dracknum blood is indeed potent. To think it has already produced such effects, even now..." His eyes studied me intently, as if something new and remarkable had just been revealed.

    "I would expect nothing less from the lineage of someone called Dragonsbane," Leopold continued, and I noticed the aura surrounding him slowly fading.

    His words pulled me back into reality. "President of the Aetheryon Magic Tower, the one who answers only to the king¡ªthe Archmage of Twilight¡ªLeopold Stargazer..." The words spilled from my lips effortlessly, a stream of knowledge etched into my mind. They weren¡¯t deliberate thoughts. They were just there, waiting to be spoken.

    It felt as though I was speaking without truly being in control, as if another entity were guiding my words. What is this? Even my own voice sounded mechanical, like the echo of something distant and disconnected.

    "What... What was that? Where are we? What happened to me?" The questions tumbled from my lips, desperate for answers. Yet the sensation of losing control, of my very identity being reshaped, only grew stronger.

    There was a brief pause, and then Leopold''s voice returned, a smile evident in his tone. "Ah, so it worked. Excellent. I see you¡¯re already accessing your new memories and knowledge. As expected."

    His words brought no comfort. Instead, a cold shiver ran down my spine, making me even more aware of the chilling atmosphere of this place and the oppressive solitude clinging to me like a shadow.

    "Answering your question," he continued, ignoring any hesitation he might have detected in me, "you are in your new body, in your new life. What you¡¯re feeling now is only the beginning. Your vision, strength, even your perception of the world have been altered. And they will change even more over time. After all, you are still young."

    I rose slowly, still using the walls for support. The movement required more effort than I¡¯d anticipated. My body felt lighter, more agile, yet awkward, as if it hadn¡¯t fully learned how to exist. ¡®It¡¯ll take some time to get used to this.¡¯

    My gaze wandered across the room as I tried to find any point of reference, something to anchor myself.

    The chamber was larger than I had initially realized. The walls were made of black stone, etched with runes that pulsed softly, hypnotically, alternating between hues of blue and gold. The ceiling loomed high above, hidden by shadows that the faint light couldn¡¯t fully dispel. Around me, apart from the coffin I had awakened in, there was nothing else. No furniture, no objects, no signs of life.

    ¡°And the others?¡± I asked, my voice echoing in the vastness. I turned to Leopold. "Are they okay? Where are they? Why am I the only one here?" My mind latched onto the thoughts of the others. I needed to know.

    "Each of you is undergoing your own transition, in your own time," Leopold explained. "But you... were the first to awaken. Consider it an honor."

 Answers

    I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in my mind. Leopold''s words were reassuring, but they carried an undercurrent of weight I couldn''t yet decipher. Whatever lay ahead, I knew it wouldn''t be simple. I just hoped I was ready to face it.

    "You said that after the process, you would answer all the questions we asked," I said, my voice still hoarse but steady. I lifted my gaze determinedly.

    Leopold''s crimson eyes, glowing like tiny beacons in the dark, locked onto mine. He stepped forward. "Ah, it seems patience is not one of your strongest virtues," he said, his tone tinged with amusement. "Still, that''s understandable. Transformation always leaves its mark, and questions are bound to arise quickly."

    Unfazed, I pressed on. "Conveniently, there''s a table with chairs in this room." I gestured toward a corner I hadn''t noticed before. Sure enough, a round table made of dark wood, intricately carved, rested there, surrounded by high-backed chairs that looked inviting, though not necessarily comfortable.

    Leopold raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Interesting. I''ve already noticed that observation might be one of your most prominent traits. But tell me, wouldn''t you prefer to rest your mind first? The first moments after the transition are always the most draining."

    I shook my head, resolute. "I''ve rested enough." My voice still carried a tinge of irritation, though it wasn''t directed at him¡ªit was for the confusion raging inside me that I desperately wanted to untangle. "Besides," I added, touching my throat, "my throat is dry. Talking like this is awful."

    Leopold chuckled, a low, raspy sound that felt oddly out of place coming from him. He crossed his arms, eyeing me appraisingly.

    "Very well, I''ll arrange something. But tell me, what do you prefer? Water, coffee, tea, milk, fruit juice?" He paused, then gave me a mischievous smile¡ªan expression unexpected on his usually serious face. "Or perhaps wine? Maybe beer? I think a mug of mead might be fitting to warm the soul in moments like this."

    I rolled my eyes and stared at him, my tone flat and direct. "Only someone once called the ''Mad Mage'' would offer wine to a child." A pause, and then my mouth curled into an involuntary smile. "I''ll take the fruit juice."

    "Ah, you have a sense of humor," Leopold replied, still smiling. With a wave of his hand, a soft glow filled the air, and a crystal pitcher appeared on the table, accompanied by a delicate glass. The liquid inside was a vibrant orange hue, and its sweet, citrusy aroma quickly filled the room.

    "Please," he said, gesturing toward the glass. "Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not poisoned. Though, considering the circumstances, that would be rather redundant, wouldn¡¯t it?"

    I walked to the table, my steps hesitant but steadier now. I was beginning to adapt to my new body, though the sense of unfamiliarity lingered. I pulled one of the chairs with some effort, its faint creak breaking the silence as I prepared to pour the juice. However, before I could touch the pitcher, Leopold intervened, raising a hand in a warning gesture.

    "Children don¡¯t serve themselves," he said, a playful smile spreading across his face as he leaned forward to grab the pitcher.

    I stared at him for a moment, one eyebrow arched. ¡®This old man is enjoying this far too much¡¯. But I kept the thought to myself, deciding not to fuel his amusement with my irritation.

    Leopold poured the juice into the glass with almost theatrical precision, as if savoring every second of the act. The vibrant orange liquid flowed elegantly, and he pushed the glass toward me with a slow, deliberate motion.

    I took a sip, the sweet yet slightly tart flavor flooding my mouth. It was refreshing and soothing, easing the dryness in my throat that had plagued me since I¡¯d awakened.

    "Better?" Leopold asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched me. His gaze was sharp, almost analytical, yet it carried a softness, as if he were both entertained and genuinely concerned.

    "Yes," I replied, setting the glass down on the table. My voice sounded clear now, free from the earlier hoarseness. For the first time, I heard what my new voice truly was: childish but steady, with an unexpectedly melodic tone. I looked directly at Leopold. "Now, please, fulfill your promise. I want answers."This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    He let out a low chuckle, appearing satisfied. With a snap of his fingers, a wine glass materialized in his hand, already filled with a dark, glistening liquid. He shifted his posture, relaxing as he took a small sip. At ease, he clasped his hands together and met my gaze.

    "Very well," he said, his expression softening, almost casual. "Ask your first question."

    My mind was a torrent of thoughts, a flood of questions rising and falling as the injected knowledge within me gradually organized itself. Most of the questions answered themselves as information clicked into place, but one remained. It was persistent, rooted deeply in my curiosity, and it had been nagging at me from the very start.

    "Why be so generous with us?" I asked, my voice carrying genuine curiosity.

    Leopold paused mid-sip, nearly choking, and his rosy eyes turned to me in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked, carefully setting his glass down on the table.

    I took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly and resting my elbows on the table. "Given the extent of your magical power and the vast methods of manipulation I now understand, it''s obvious there were far easier ways to force us to cooperate. Methods that wouldn''t require this much care or... generosity."

    Leopold remained silent for a moment, his expression shifting to something more serious. He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair, a small smile curling the corner of his lips. "Interesting," he said at last. "I knew your mind would be sharp, but I didn¡¯t expect you to start questioning the essence of my motives this early on."

    I waited patiently as he took another sip of wine, clearly arranging his thoughts before responding. The silence between us was filled only by the soft hum of the glowing runes on the walls.

    "I could, indeed, force you to cooperate," he admitted, gazing into the glass in his hand as if reflecting on something distant. "Power is a versatile tool, and coercion is one of its simplest forms. But simple doesn¡¯t mean efficient, let alone sustainable. What I want from you isn¡¯t just obedience. It¡¯s... trust."

    "Trust?" I echoed, my voice skeptical. "That doesn¡¯t sound like something someone like you would need."

    He chuckled softly, this time with a hint of melancholy. "Ah, but I do. More than you realize. What¡¯s at stake here is far greater than any order or submission. And to achieve what I need, you must want to participate. There must be choice, even in the face of inevitability." His rosy eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw something beyond simple weariness in them¡ªan invisible weight he seemed to carry.

    I was about to voice my second question when a sharp, familiar pain struck me. It was as if something were piercing into my mind, crushing my thoughts under a chaotic, unbearable torrent.

    "Argh, I thought this was already¡ª" My words were cut off by the growing intensity of the pain. Instinctively, I clutched my head, trying to contain the turmoil within, but it was futile. My body trembled, and beads of sweat began to roll down my face. The glass on the table wobbled slightly, the sound of its vibrations mingling with my ragged, labored breathing.

    Leopold, who had been watching me intently, leaned forward slightly but remained still. His eyes, filled with concern, betrayed no surprise. It was as though he had expected something like this, yet the tension in his posture gave him away.

    "Hel... help me, you... you¡¯re... more than... capable," my words came out fragmented, weighed down by the searing pain consuming me. I managed to cling to focus, but deep down, I knew the pain would only grow worse.

    Leopold, however, didn¡¯t respond immediately. He observed in silence, as if carefully weighing his words before speaking. Finally, his tone turned solemn, heavier than before, as he said, "It¡¯s impossible. Just as you must have realized when your body was being reconstructed, this is something you must endure firsthand. Unfortunately, no magic can nullify your pain."

    Those words fell like a blade.

    "Focus!" Leopold commanded, his voice cutting through the storm raging inside me like a silent shout. "Take deep breaths. Don¡¯t fight it."

    ¡®Easy for you to say¡¯, The pain surged again. My vision blurred, and my hands clenched into fists against the table, desperately seeking an anchor in the chaos. The pain coursed through me like an electric current, each wave dragging me deeper into an unrelenting agony that filled every corner of my mind.

    The pain intensified further, a searing current of torment tearing through every fiber of my being. It felt as though something¡ªor someone¡ªwas trying to force its way into my mind, ripping apart my thoughts one by one. Until finally, only one thought remained¡ªa single question that rose amidst the maelstrom.

    Summoning every ounce of strength I could muster, I forced out the words, my voice a broken whisper.

    ¡°Wh¡­ Wha¡­¡± The pain made articulation near impossible, but I pushed on. ¡°Who¡­ is¡­ th¡­ this¡­ v-voice¡­ in¡­ my¡­ head?¡±

    For a moment, silence filled the space, broken only by the sound of my labored breathing. Leopold didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady and piercing, as though he were examining the depths of my soul. He waited patiently, as though knowing the storm within me would eventually subside, even if just momentarily.

    When he finally spoke, his words were simple but I couldn¡¯t fully comprehend.

    ¡°It¡¯s you.¡±

 Whats my name?

    ¡°It¡¯s you.¡±

    Those words struck like a blow, echoing in my mind. ¡®Me? What do you mean, me?¡¯ I thought, as the weight of the declaration hung in the air, suffocating and incomprehensible. It was hard to accept that the voice¡ªthis presence that felt so foreign and yet so intimately familiar¡ªcould truly be a part of me.

    Leopold leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze locked on mine. ¡°You¡¯re starting to feel it,¡± he continued, his voice calmer now but still heavy with a gravity that made me hold my breath. ¡°What you heard, what you felt¡ªit¡¯s all the echo of your own essence. A part of you¡ªor rather, a part of your new self¡ªis beginning to awaken. It¡¯s natural for your mind to resist this at first.¡±

    My hands trembled on the table, my fingers unsteady as I tried to absorb his words. ¡°My¡­ new self?¡± I murmured, my voice fragile.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Leopold confirmed with a slight nod, maintaining his composure as his eyes bore into mine. ¡°The fusion of your soul and your¡­ new soul.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t hold back the outburst that followed. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡± I protested, my voice rising, louder and firmer than I intended. ¡°You implied the soul wouldn¡¯t be affected, that it was just a bond. How can there be a¡ªnew soul¡ªif there was already one?¡±

    Leopold remained unshaken, a faint smile gracing his lips¡ª. ¡°I said your soul wouldn¡¯t be affected, and that includes both parts: the new and the old. It¡¯s a fusion, Dalton. Not a replacement.¡±

    My mind was spinning, struggling to find logic in his explanation. ¡°But how is that possible?¡± I demanded, my voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration. ¡°Isn¡¯t it supposed to be one soul per body? Doesn¡¯t this violate¡­I don¡¯t know¡­the very logic of existence?¡±

    ¡°And it is one soul,¡± Leopold replied patiently, resting his chin on one hand, like someone explaining a simple concept to an impatient child. ¡°But imagine your soul now as a blend. A new compound. Your old self, and your new self.¡± He paused.

    ¡°Then wouldn¡¯t it be normal to say I had only one soul as well?¡±

    I sat there, stunned, trying to process Leopold¡¯s words, trying to grasp the complexity of what he was saying. Finally, the question that had been hammering at the back of my mind escaped. ¡°So, what is a soul, then? In the end¡­ just a collection of memories is enough to create one, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Leopold answered with a disarming frankness, as if shedding any pretense. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. ¡°Some say a soul is just memory, the sum of lived experiences. Others claim it¡¯s the essence of who we are, the spark that defines us. And then, there are those who argue it doesn¡¯t exist at all.¡±

    He paused, as if weighing the gravity of his words. ¡°The only thing I can state with certainty is that now, you have two. Two elements that, when joined, create something unique¡ªbut still you.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ I¡¯m a fusion?¡± The disbelief in my voice was palpable, as though the words themselves defied comprehension.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said calmly, tilting his head slightly as he studied me. ¡°You are the result of two essences combined. Your old soul carries everything you were, while the new one adds potential, affinities, and¡­ complexity. That doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ve ceased to be who you were. It only means you now have more layers.¡±

    I fell silent, struggling to decipher the chaos swirling in my mind. ¡°A fusion? Me, but not me¡­¡± The thought was unsettling, like something prying into the deepest corners of my existence.

    ¡°Wrong. You are you,¡± Leopold said, cutting through my murmurs with firm finality. ¡°Simplify. What is your name?¡±

    I ignored him, still caught in the whirlwind of confusion echoing within me.

    ¡°And this fusion¡­ is it permanent?¡± I asked, my voice low, as if afraid of the answer.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Leopold replied, his tone softer now, yet carrying a new weight.

    I remained motionless as silence reclaimed the room, broken only by the distant hum of the runes on the floor. His answer, though straightforward, pressed heavily on me.

    ¡®An expansion¡­ not a loss¡¯. That¡¯s what he was saying. And maybe it was what I needed to believe. Maybe.

    ¡°I asked you something,¡± Leopold insisted, his solemn gaze fixed on me. ¡°What is your name, boy?¡±

    The question wasn¡¯t difficult. It was a simple question, something anyone could answer instinctively. Yet, in that moment, it became a challenge. The query reverberated in my mind.

    And then, the sharp pain struck again.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡®What is my name?¡¯ The question that should have been obvious now felt like an impossible riddle. It made no sense. Leopold had just said my name.

    ¡®My name is Dal¡­¡¯

    ¡®My name is Al¡­¡¯

    The two voices echoed simultaneously in my mind, like hammers striking in unison, colliding and competing for space. One was an anchor¡ªheavy, familiar, tethering me to who I had been. The other, strange but no less real, pulsed with an intense force, wild and uncontrollable, like a raging river desperate to break free of its banks.

    ¡°GET OUT OF MY HEAD, NOW!¡± I shouted, my voice reverberating through the chamber. But instead of subsiding, the pain surged.

    Images began to form in my mind, so vivid that I couldn¡¯t tell if they were memories or hallucinations. A family. A smiling face as I was cradled in their arms. Steady hands holding me as I took my first steps. Encouraging voices guiding me as I learned to speak, to read, to write. Laughter and playful shouts with other children my age. The warmth of the sun on my face in a field of blooming flowers.

    These were so different from the torrent of memories that had flooded me before. If those had felt like a cold encyclopedia being injected into my mind, these were visceral. They came with sensations, emotions, moments I could almost reach out and touch, relive.

    My breathing was ragged, sweat dripping down my face. My knees buckled, and I collapsed from the chair onto the cold stone floor, clutching my head. ¡°What is this?¡± I gasped, but the answer was already clear, buried beneath the confusion and the agony.

    ¡®They¡¯re your¡­¡¯

    My thought was cut off abruptly by another voice, a raspy, childlike tone.

    ¡®Our¡­¡¯

    Another interruption, stronger now. Until finally, both voices spoke in unison.

    ¡®They¡¯re my memories.¡¯

    I finally understood. These weren¡¯t just memories from my past¡ªthey belonged to the new soul. Yet instead of offering clarity, they brought more questions than answers.

    My body trembled as my mind struggled to realign itself. I raised my gaze to Leopold, and my expression was a chaotic blend of fury and confusion. My eyes burned, reflecting the storm of pain raging within me. ¡°What did you do to me?!¡±

    I demanded, my voice hoarse yet brimming with emotion. ¡°WHO AM I?!¡±

    Leopold watched me with a disturbing calm, his hands wrapped around a wine glass. He took another measured sip before speaking.

    ¡°You are who you have always been,¡± he said, his voice soft but firm. ¡°And who you are becoming now.¡±

    ¡°That explains nothing!¡± I shouted, my voice trembling with frustration, each word an ineffective attempt to combat the mental storm brewing within me. My body was tense, my head pounding with an unbearable pain.

    ¡°You¡¯re simply afraid of the truth, denying something you¡¯ve already accepted long ago,¡± Leopold replied, his words steeped in a calm that only fueled my anger. He looked at me with that unwavering expression, as if he understood something I wasn¡¯t yet capable of grasping.

    ¡°What is your name!¡± he exclaimed, his voice now deeper, more commanding. The pressure in my head surged, the pain detonating like an endless storm within me. What did he want from me? What more could I do to make sense of this?

    ¡°I am... I am... I am Dalton Xavier!¡± I finally shouted. The answer was there. I didn¡¯t know where the certainty came from, but I knew who I was. Or at least, that¡¯s what I thought.

    But Leopold¡¯s reaction was immediate and intense. His face hardened, his eyes darkened. He leaned forward, his expression alight with anger.

    The pain in my head felt infinite, as if my mind was tearing itself apart¡ªa whirlwind of conflicting emotions and thoughts clashing violently within me.

    ¡°NO, NOT THAT ONE! WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!¡± Leopold¡¯s voice sliced through the air, furious, like a blade. I looked at him, but his image blurred before me. His rage was immense, and somehow, it echoed within me.

    ¡°DAL.¡± I tried to shout, my voice raw and desperate. But Leopold didn¡¯t let me finish. His anger was tangible, suffocating, and he cut me off without hesitation.

    ¡°BE QUIET. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? ANSWER ME!¡± he roared with such intensity that the sound seemed to reverberate through my very bones.

    The pain in my head rose like a tidal wave, swelling and growing until it was unbearable. My fingers twisted, my breathing grew shallow and erratic. I tried, with every ounce of strength I had, to fight back, but the mental chaos refused to relent. The voices, the images¡ªthey all merged into an incomprehensible torrent.

    I was drowning.

    ¡°What¡­ is¡­ my¡­ name?¡± The question kept hammering in my head, an ever-growing obsession that made me question every part of myself. I just wanted the pain to stop, for the agony to end. Everything felt like a blur.

    ¡°ANSWER ME! DON¡¯T BE A STUPID CHILD! DON¡¯T BE A BOY RUNNING FROM THE TRUTH!¡± Leopold¡¯s voice echoed, cruel and merciless.

    ¡°Accept who you are now, who you were, and who you will be. I¡¯m not asking you to abandon who you were¡ªI¡¯m asking you to understand who you are now.¡± His words struck something deep within me, and suddenly, something inside me stilled.

    The two voices, once clashing for control, had finally merged. The grafting process had completed. The pain began to subside, though my mind remained disoriented, disarrayed. I no longer knew where truth began or illusion ended, but somehow, the pressure eased. I wasn¡¯t fully in control, but I wasn¡¯t lost anymore. I felt¡­ altered, transformed.

    And then, amidst the turmoil, someone appeared before me. A woman with a radiant smile, her eyes gleaming with pure, comforting energy. She approached slowly, as if emerging from the depths of my soul, a soothing presence in the midst of the chaos.

    Her voice was clear and reassuring, as if she were the only real thing in this moment of confusion. And then, she spoke to me softly, giving me the answer.

    ¡°My name is¡­¡±

 Between Yesterday and Tomorrow

    She was beautiful. Her tanned skin glowed softly under the light, as if kissed by the sun, and her brown eyes sparkled with an indescribable tenderness. Her long, curly hair cascaded in perfect waves, delicately framing her face. Her slender figure radiated a natural grace, a poise that exuded confidence and warmth. But none of that compared to her radiant smile. When she smiled, the world around her seemed to pause for a moment, as if everything else was overshadowed by the brightness of her presence. It was impossible not to be drawn in by the gentleness of her energy, by the magnetic charm she emanated.

    "Look, look! He blinked his little eyes!" Her voice was full of contagious excitement, soft, and it made the moment even more special. Her smile widened as her eyes sparkled, looking at the tiny being in her arms¡ªa baby, cradled in her care. I was there, nestled in the warmth of her embrace, so small, so fragile, yet with the whole world around me, feeling protected and safe in her presence.

    I didn¡¯t fully understand what was happening. My mind was still a tangle of vague sensations, but one thing I knew for sure: being there, in her arms, wrapped in that comforting warmth, was all I needed. Her touch was a silent promise that nothing could hurt me, a feeling of well-being that enveloped and warmed me. Everything felt perfect, even though I couldn¡¯t yet grasp what it meant to be there.

    "What do you think he¡¯s pondering, huh?" the woman said with an affectionate smile, gently caressing my head, as if somehow she knew I understood her, even without words.

    "My child, there¡¯s nothing in this world you should fear," she said, her voice filled with a soothing calm. She looked at me with immense tenderness, as if her presence alone was enough to make me feel safe, as if it were all I would ever need. "Your father is one of the strongest men this world has ever seen," she continued, her face glowing with confidence. "And I know he¡¯ll do whatever it takes to protect you."

    She paused, her eyes locked with mine, shimmering with determination and love, and then, with a voice brimming with emotion, she said, "Just as I would do anything, even give my life for you and all of you."

    Those words settled deep in my heart, a feeling of belonging I couldn¡¯t describe. That moment felt suspended in time, as if anything were possible, as if nothing else mattered but that warmth, that love.

    "Your eyes, with their beautiful golden hue, are a symbol of your greatness. I know you¡¯ll grow to be someone I¡¯ll be proud of," she continued, her lips curved into an expression of pride and tenderness. "After all, it was I who chose your name."

    "Alexander Wolfgang The Dracknum," she whispered tenderly, and as she uttered my name, a soft, golden light gently illuminated the space around us.

    <hr>

    Sniff.

    ¡°Imagine, the first thing you do after waking up is cry...¡± A low, tired, and heavy voice, belonging to a child, echoed in the room.

    Confused, I looked around. Six other children were there, all in various stages of discomfort, just like me. I couldn¡¯t focus on them immediately, still dazed, but a deep ache in my chest caused an inexplicable pain. It was as if an emptiness¡ªa longing I couldn¡¯t understand¡ªwas suffocating me.

    With difficulty, I got up and moved toward a mirror hanging on the wall in front of me. My reflection gradually appeared. There it was again, my face¡ªsmall, with tears streaming down from my eyes, tracing the contours of my tanned skin. I looked so little, so vulnerable, and the pain in my chest felt like it was crushing me.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°Mother¡­¡± I murmured, confused, recalling the figure from my dream. But I didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it, interrupted by a noise coming from the entrance of that strange place.

    ¡°I see you¡¯re all awake,¡± Oswald said suddenly. His voice felt both distant and close at the same time. He stepped into the room, surveying the children around him. Some still had tear-streaked faces, others bore dark circles under their eyes and exhausted expressions, while a few had disheveled hair and small scratches on their skin. The air was heavy, a lingering sense of incompleteness hanging over all of us.

    ¡°With this, the process is complete,¡± Oswald continued, his tone grave. ¡°It must have been difficult, but you¡¯re remarkable for having endured this challenge.¡± He looked at each of us with a mix of approval and concern, as if trying to gauge the toll this process had taken on us.

    For a moment, the room was silent, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the murmurs of those still trying to make sense of everything. I felt a lump in my throat, as though Oswald¡¯s words weren¡¯t enough to fill the emptiness left by this transformation.

    ¡°Well, take some time to rest, introduce yourselves, and say a temporary goodbye to your friends.¡± He stepped aside, allowing movement among us, but something in his tone suggested it wasn¡¯t as simple as it sounded. His words carried a melancholic weight that couldn¡¯t be ignored.

    ¡°Goodbye?¡± a small girl with bluish hair timidly asked. Her voice was hoarse, as if she¡¯d screamed and cried endlessly throughout the process. Her eyes were swollen, her face marked by sorrow. She looked confused and lost.

    ¡°Hmm, Leopold didn¡¯t explain?¡± Oswald furrowed his brows, glancing around. He seemed to be gauging our reactions before giving us any further details. ¡°You¡¯ll be going to the states of your new families, but don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll see each other often¡ªat social events, during activities, and you can even visit one another from time to time. But now it¡¯s time to move forward, to make room for the new identities being created.¡±

    ¡°But I... I don¡¯t want to go.¡± Her voice, small and timid, carried a fragility that resonated through all of us, like a collective sigh. Those words hung heavy in the air.

    Oswald didn¡¯t respond immediately. He looked at the girl with a gentle expression, as if trying to soften the blow of what he was about to say. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard, but in time, you¡¯ll understand,¡± he said, his tone more soothing now. ¡°This is a necessary step for all of us. You have new opportunities, new paths ahead. It doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll lose what you have now¡ªit just means you¡¯ll learn to adapt and grow.¡±

    Despite his attempt to ease the tension, a sense of unease settled among us. The separation felt inevitable, and nothing he said seemed to lighten the weight of it.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the end, everyone,¡± a girl with golden eyes and hair, strikingly similar to the king¡¯s, interjected.

    ¡°And we can write letters, can¡¯t we?¡± She quickly turned to Oswald. ¡°Mr. Oswald, right? Surely there are other ways to stay in touch in this world?¡± She rose slightly, taking charge of the conversation, her expression firm and confident. The way she spoke made it clear to me¡ªthis had to be Elizabeth.

    Oswald looked at her, seemingly relieved to have someone who could maintain their composure amidst the uncertainty. ¡°Yes, yes, of course,¡± he replied, visibly grateful. ¡°You can write letters, and there are magical communicators as well. But be aware¡ªthey¡¯re quite expensive for long-distance use.¡±

    He tried to sound more enthusiastic as he continued. ¡°Or, you could use communication magic...¡± His voice trailed off as he added, almost in a whisper, ¡°Though only level 5 mages can cast it.¡± A faint hint of disappointment flickered across his face, as though the restriction was a personal shortcoming.

    After a calculated pause, he seemed to latch onto a more practical solution. With a spark of excitement in his eyes, he added, ¡°Oh! There¡¯s also the magical keyboard! A brilliant invention that eliminates the need for a courier. You just synchronize the keyboards, and whatever you write on one appears on the other side.¡± He puffed up his chest, clearly proud to have redeemed himself with such a clever alternative.

    It was amusing to watch a grown man try to cheer up a group of adult children. I let out a small smile at Oswald¡¯s earnest efforts.

 Introducing Yourself

    ¡®About this magical keyboard¡ªit seems like a telegraph, or maybe a fax.¡¯ An odd comparison was forming in my mind.

    I glanced around, realizing that the idea of communication, though seemingly straightforward, carried an inevitable sense of distance.

    As tension lingered in the room, there was a palpable wave of relief when Oswald, sensing the need for some space, made a move to leave.

    "I think it¡¯s best if I give you some time alone," he said, his voice soft but laced with understanding, as if he had picked up on the unspoken need for a break. "I''ll see you all shortly."

    The sound of the door closing behind him brought a brief silence¡ªa moment of shared reflection. It was Elizabeth who broke it, her voice attempting to bring a hint of levity to the atmosphere.

    "How about we introduce ourselves, since everyone seems so confused by our new appearances?" She looked around, her gaze searching for a way to ease the tension, and it was hard not to feel slightly more at ease in the presence of her firm yet reassuring demeanor.

    She stepped forward, as if to set an example, and said, "I¡¯ll start. I¡¯m Elizabeth, but now I¡¯m Alice Roseta Van Allytharion, the 3rd princess of the kingdom of Allytheon." She smiled as she spoke, almost as though she found comfort in the idea of being someone else.

    "Wow, so you¡¯re a princess now. Fancy," Carlos remarked with a sarcastic grin. His light, teasing tone earned a few chuckles from the group.

    "I¡¯m Carlos, but now I¡¯m Alistair Tzanetos Duskweld, heir to the Marquessate of Duskweld," he announced, sounding slightly displeased with the title as if he¡¯d hoped for something grander.

    "Oh, so you¡¯re my vassal?" came a voice from a sturdy-looking boy to our left. I immediately recognized it¡ªit belonged to the same boy who had questioned me when I¡¯d woken up.

    "I¡¯m Benjamin, but now I¡¯m Lucian Bjornsson Le Magnum, heir to the Principality of Magnum. So, I¡¯m a prince now. Imagine that¡ªthe glutton would end up working under me," he said with a playful tone, clearly amused by the strange turn of events.

    Benjamin, drawing from his new memories, recognized the name Duskweld as a marquessate within his family¡¯s territory¡ªa vassal state.

    "Huh, work for you? Only in your dreams," Carlos shot back quickly, matching the playful tone.

    "Pfft." A soft, amused laugh escaped from the blue-eyed girl, unable to hold it back. "I¡¯m Midori, but now I¡¯m Seraphina Elara Cromwell, the only daughter of the Archduchy of Cromwell. Although now, I have an older brother and a younger one," she said, trying to focus on the bright side. "At least I¡¯m not alone anymore¡ªI have siblings now, and I never had that back on Earth."This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "I guess we all have a new beginning," I murmured, trying to find some peace in her words.

    "I¡¯m Dalton, and my new name is Alexander Wolfgang The Dracknum," I continued, feeling the awkwardness of saying the full name out loud. The mix of a new title and a new identity stirred strange emotions in me, though it brought some relief. "I¡¯m the 7th son of the Archduchy of Dracknum."

    "Pfft! Wolfgang?" Benjamin burst into laughter, the kind that was contagious. "So, you¡¯re a gang leader now? Wolfgang the mob boss. Imagine that¡ªthe future lawyer turned mafioso," he teased, but his tone made it clear he wasn¡¯t being mean-spirited.

    "Look who¡¯s talking, Bjornsson," I shot back with a grin, countering his jab. "What are you, a Nordic warrior? Your middle name is basically your dad¡¯s nickname: ¡®Son of the Bear.¡¯"

    Benjamin¡¯s laughter was quick, but it soon shifted into a mischievous smirk. "Oh, coming from you, Wolfgang! They nailed your style perfectly."

    "Totally suits both of you," chimed in a girl with crimson hair and eyes tinged with gold. Her laugh mingled with the conversation, and we all recognized her as Nicole.

    "Oh, really? And what¡¯s your name?" Benjamin and I asked simultaneously.

    She smirked confidently. "Diana Aurelius Del Phoenix. Way better than your names," she teased, her eyes glinting mischievously.

    "Aurelius? Sounds like a soap opera villain," Benjamin quipped, his tone mock-critical.

    I nodded in agreement. "It does, actually," I said, going along with the joke.

    "Hey, don¡¯t skip my turn," a familiar and laid-back voice drew everyone''s attention to the last person who hadn¡¯t introduced themselves¡ªLuca Moreti. His brown hair and green eyes carried a calm demeanor, and the lightness in his tone suggested he had already made peace with the situation.

    "My new name is Elijah Valerius Di Snaken," he declared, puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride. "I¡¯m the second son of the Grand Duchy of Snaken."

    "Di Snaken?" I commented, smiling playfully. "They really nailed your personality with that one!"

    Benjamin and Carlos burst into laughter, but Luca wasn¡¯t fazed. He shot back with a sarcastic look, "Tzanetos, don¡¯t you dare laugh."

    "Look who¡¯s talking, Valerius," Carlos countered. "They basically took a girl¡¯s name and slapped a ''-ius'' on the end."

    "Come on, guys, let¡¯s stop picking apart each other¡¯s names," Elizabeth interjected, attempting to rein in the teasing. Her tone was firm, but a light chuckle escaped her lips despite her efforts to stay composed.

    "Roseta, but it¡¯s yellow," Midori quipped shyly, taking a playful jab at Elizabeth, perhaps as a little revenge for the teasing she¡¯d endured over her pink hair back in their teenage years.

    "I¡¯m not the one who looks like a box of colored pencils," Elizabeth shot back, laughing along with the others.

    The conversation continued for several more minutes, filled with friendly jabs and genuine laughter. I allowed myself to join in, feeling a warmth settle over me. Somehow, amidst the banter and humor, a sense of acceptance was beginning to take root.

 Farewell (1)

    About half an hour had passed since Oswald left the room. The tension in the air had eased considerably, and now there was a strange sense of tranquility lingering. Our jokes and banter had helped lighten the atmosphere, and gradually, we were beginning to adjust to our new realities.

    Suddenly, the door opened again, the sound echoing through the stone room. Leopold, Oswald, and the king entered. The room, which moments ago had been filled with relaxed laughter, fell silent for an instant as we all turned to look at them.

    "I see the effect of the age cut is stronger than I thought," Leopold remarked, a playful smile on his face as he analyzed our expressions and behaviors.

    "Better this way, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯d be even stranger if they all acted out of sync with their age," Oswald added approvingly, his eyes scanning each of us as if we were part of a successfully conducted experiment.

    King Augustus sighed, running a hand down his face like someone who had already seen it all. "If the patriarchs of these families knew what their children were saying..." He paused, offering a tired smile. "They¡¯d probably lose their minds. Do you have any idea how many noble traditions you¡¯ve just shattered in only half an hour?"

    "Or how many wars you¡¯d cause?" Oswald quipped, clearly amused by the situation.

    I felt my face flush as I looked down at the floor. The conversations had gone far beyond the bounds of common sense. Beyond discussing our new names, we had speculated about those of our families and other noble houses, made guesses about neighboring kingdoms, shared irreverent jokes about local religions, and even invented absurd rumors about important figures in this world¡ªnot to mention jokes that were far from appropriate, especially for children, let alone noble heirs. I realized I wasn¡¯t the only one embarrassed. Some avoided eye contact, others tried to hide a grin, but we all knew we had gone too far.

    "I''m glad to see you''re adapting well to your new memories and bodies," Leopold said, noting how naturally we now moved. His eyes swept over the group, pausing on me for a few seconds. "Although... some of you have had rather exaggerated reactions."

    His tone, while calm, carried a hint of provocation. I averted my gaze, still feeling the emotional sting of the earlier confusion.

    "The important thing," he continued, "is that the process was a success¡ªnot just for you, but for the entire kingdom, the world, and for me, Oswald, and the king himself."

    Leopold''s words echoed in my mind. I was still grappling with what it meant to be someone else, to live another life, but he spoke with such certainty that I found myself beginning to trust his words completely. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was because he was genuinely reliable and persuasive, or if it was an effect of the new memories and information embedded in my mind.

    He paused for a moment, letting the gravity of his words sink in. ¡°From this point on, you will be new people. Please avoid behaving in ways that are inconsistent with the personalities reflected in your new memories. Children do change their behavior, of course, but abrupt shifts might raise suspicions. You need to go with the flow.¡±

    He paused again, adjusting his posture with an almost casual air. ¡°After all, we don¡¯t want anyone here being accused of being possessed by a demon, do we?¡±

    His words stirred a slight commotion. I saw Luca arch an eyebrow, which made me wonder: ¡®What exactly isn¡¯t possible in this world?¡¯

    I glanced at Midori, who was standing beside me. Her posture had changed; she seemed less uneasy in the presence of the three men, but there was something in the way she looked at Leopold, as if she wanted to say something. When she finally attempted to speak, he raised a hand to stop her.

    ¡°Please avoid interruptions; we¡¯re racing against the clock. Once I¡¯m done, there will be a brief moment to address your final questions.¡± Leopold spoke, a small smile appearing on his face as he looked at Midori.

    ¡°The process isn¡¯t 100% complete yet,¡± Leopold continued, his gaze sweeping over us as if gauging how much of his explanation we truly understood. ¡°Certain memories will continue to emerge gradually, and information about this world will keep being added to your minds.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s not over yet?¡± I asked, my voice a mix of exhaustion and curiosity. It was hard to process that this was still far from the end.

    ¡°Not completely,¡± Leopold replied, his tone patient. ¡°The full process will take about a month until the memories are fully integrated. During that time, you will continue to receive fragments of information¡ªabout the continent, the kingdom, key figures, your relationships, and even trivial details, like what you supposedly ate yesterday.¡±

    ¡®Does that mean I¡¯ll have to endure that damn pain again?¡¯ I clenched my fists at Leopold¡¯s confirmation.

    He paused, offering a slight smile as if trying to ease the tension. At the same time, I heard a stifled laugh escape from someone in the group, though I couldn¡¯t identify who it was.

    ¡°But don¡¯t worry. There won¡¯t be any more side effects. The ones you experienced were caused by the massive influx of information entering your minds all at once, which was necessary to ensure a quick initial adaptation.¡±

    Phew, I sighed, relaxing my posture.

    Oswald chimed in with a more upbeat tone. ¡°That¡¯s right. The information varies greatly from person to person, depending on the personalities, families, and responsibilities each of you have. For example, some of you have received knowledge about political strategies, while others have learned advanced techniques in etiquette or combat. Some of you hold memories of magical formulas, forging, various languages, and much more. This was carefully planned to ensure you fit perfectly into your new lives.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s normal for one of us to know something the others don¡¯t?¡± Elizabeth asked.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Oswald replied with a satisfied smile. ¡°And don¡¯t worry, because this only reinforces the dynamics you have with your new families and each other. After all, you¡¯re not a group of equals. Each family has its traditions, ways of educating its descendants, and specific roles. Every individual has their likes, dislikes, preferences, and unique traits. In short, each of you has a specific role to play.¡±

    ¡°Also, don¡¯t be alarmed if the way you think and act changes involuntarily or abruptly. This happens due to the effect of the memories you¡¯ve received. Some of you may even experience temporary mental instability, but that¡¯s part of the process. Another factor is your age. The effects are not just physical but, as you¡¯ve noticed, mental as well. Certain impulses are amplified, and some childish behaviors will surface. So, if one of you suddenly becomes extremely childish, develops a sweet tooth, becomes grumpy, or exhibits age-typical behaviors¡­ it¡¯s all part of puberty.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    He cast a glance at me, almost as if to say I¡¯d already experienced something similar when I chose fruit juice over the other options.

    ¡®Even if I weren¡¯t a child, I still wouldn¡¯t choose mead¡¯. Even in my previous world, I was never a fan of alcoholic beverages, always doing my best to avoid consuming them.

    ¡°With that, we¡¯re done. I believe everything else can be resolved with the knowledge you¡¯ve been provided. After all, I added a bit extra, just as a precaution,¡± Leopold said, a mischievous smile lighting up his face as though he was quite pleased with himself.

    I glanced at him sideways, my hands clasped in front of me. ¡®I really don¡¯t understand how someone over 70 can act so childish¡¯, I thought, holding back a sigh.

    ¡°And please, act like the nobles you now are!¡± King Augustus¡¯s voice resonated throughout the room. Despite its relatively calm tone, there was an undeniable weight to his words, something that seemed to make the very air heavier. His gaze swept over the group with the commanding authority of someone long accustomed to being obeyed.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty!¡± we responded instinctively, all at once. The reply came so automatically that it caught me off guard. Before I could even process it, I realized my hand had moved to my chest on its own, as if in a gesture of allegiance.

    Uh?

    I glanced around, noticing the same confusion mirrored on the faces of the others. Leopold, catching our reactions, smiled¡ªnot maliciously, but with a hint of amusement nonetheless.

    Is this what he meant by changes in behavior? I wondered, feeling slightly unsettled. My posture felt different¡ªmore rigid, more restrained¡ªlike some part of me had been reshaped to adhere to an etiquette I wasn¡¯t even aware I knew.

    ¡°You¡¯ve improved a little, but there¡¯s still work to do,¡± Augustus remarked, his firm and evaluative gaze lingering on us. His eyes glimmered with a golden light, and in that moment, I felt something¡­ change. It was as if an invisible wave of energy had passed through me.

    An automatic reverence took hold of me, a deep-seated feeling compelling me to lower my head. Without realizing it, I had already begun to incline my torso slightly, as though I was no longer capable of directly meeting the king¡¯s gaze. It wasn¡¯t exactly fear but something far more profound, as if my very mind had been reprogrammed to comprehend the absolute weight of his authority.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the others respond the same way. Elizabeth, usually so proud, now had her shoulders slightly slumped, her head bowed. Midori seemed hesitant but ultimately yielded to the same invisible force. Nicole, who had never bowed to anyone, showed a mix of surprise and apprehension. Carlos, the irreverent one, looked bewildered, and Benjamin, always detached, seemed entirely out of sync. Luca, meanwhile, crossed his arms behind his back, maintaining a firm stance but avoiding direct eye contact with the king.

    ¡®Is this the ¡ª king''s authority ¡ª ?¡¯ The phrase surfaced in my mind, drawn from the memories that now felt like my own, and in that moment, it made perfect sense. The title of King wasn¡¯t merely symbolic.

    ¡°It¡¯s good that you understand this,¡± Augustus continued, his voice low, almost a whisper, yet brimming with significance. ¡°In the world you now inhabit, respect and obedience are not merely expected; they are demanded. Every move you make will be observed.¡±

    ¡°Every word you say will be weighed. Do not forget: you carry the weight of your families, and your actions reflect on everyone around you.¡±

    I felt my palms grow clammy, a physical manifestation of the nervousness building inside me.

    ¡°And remember,¡± Leopold interjected, his tone softening some of the tension lingering after King Augustus¡¯s words. ¡°You¡¯re not alone. If you have any doubts or difficulties, turn to your families. Just be careful about mentioning certain facts. There are things only those of us here know¡ªsuch as the fact that you were originally from another world.¡±

    He paused, letting his words resonate through the room, his pink-hued eyes scanning our reactions. When his gaze met mine, I felt a strange mix of challenge and reassurance. He smiled, but this time, it wasn¡¯t a provocative smile. It felt almost¡­ comforting.

    ¡°Well then, before we all say goodbye, any questions?¡± he asked, tilting his head slightly as though expecting a flood of inquiries.

    The silence that followed was deafening. Not because we didn¡¯t have questions¡ªon the contrary, there were so many swirling inside me that it felt impossible to pick just one. But the strange authority of the king still lingered, making it difficult to speak without his implicit permission.

    ¡°No one?¡± Leopold asked again, feigning confusion with a playful tone that betrayed his amusement. The mischievous smile he failed to hide only fueled my irritation.

    ¡®I guess that¡¯s why they call him eccentric¡¯, I thought, clenching my fists slightly. Part of me wanted to lash out¡ªwhether with words or action¡ªbut the rational part knew it would be pointless.

    ¡°My king, I believe they¡¯ve understood,¡± Oswald finally interjected, stepping in like a mediator ready to bring an end to the game.

    Augustus relaxed his posture, and his golden eyes dimmed back to their normal shade. With that, the oppressive pressure around us lifted, and I felt my muscles gradually ease, as though I had been freed from invisible chains.

    ¡°Yes, we have questions,¡± Elizabeth was the first to recover, straightening her posture with a confidence that seemed natural. Her expression was serious, as though she had already organized her thoughts and prioritized her questions.

    Benjamin was next to speak, though his approach was far less composed. ¡°Yeah, about what you said regarding the memories¡ªdoes that explain why I feel an overwhelming urge to punch you?¡± He stared directly at Leopold, fists clenched, visibly restraining himself.

    Leopold let out a short laugh, but before he could respond, Oswald stepped in with a more analytical tone. ¡°Perhaps. The Magnum family has never been particularly fond of Leopold. You¡¯ve likely inherited some instinctive aversion from the new memories implanted in your mind.¡±

    Maybe my family too, I thought, feeling a pang of identification with Benjamin¡¯s comment. But before I could reflect further, Oswald turned his gaze directly to me and the others.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± he said with a faint smile, ¡°but it¡¯s only the Magnum family that harbors such an aversion.¡±

    I sighed, somewhat relieved not to be alone in that feeling, but still intrigued by how much these memories influenced our reactions.

    ¡°This room is unused, correct?¡± Elizabeth asked suddenly, steering the conversation in a new direction.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the king replied, looking at her with curiosity.

    ¡°Then can we use it again to meet?¡± She paused. ¡°Specifically, five years from now?¡± she continued, her voice steady and optimistic.

    ¡°Five years?¡± Nicole asked, confused.

    ¡°Yeah, what do you mean by five years?¡± Carlos added, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow.

    ¡°Explain yourself. We don¡¯t understand,¡± Benjamin said, raising an eyebrow.

    Elizabeth sighed, speaking with the patience of someone who had anticipated this reaction. ¡°According to what Mr. Oswald said, we¡¯ll be separating and will only meet on specific occasions. Of course, we might visit one another from time to time, but my memories suggest that our families schedules will keep us busy. Some of us might not meet more than a handful of times over the next few years. So, when we¡¯re fifteen, we¡¯ll have more freedom. We can meet here again, discuss our progress, and address any lingering questions that can¡¯t be dealt with publicly or in letters. Plus, we can use the opportunity to resolve anything that arises with Mr. Oswald, Mr. Leopold, and¡­¡± She hesitated before finishing, ¡°¡­my father.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good ide¡ª¡± Luca began, but Carlos interrupted him.

    ¡°Wait. Father?¡± He sounded confused, but before he could press further, all eyes turned to Elizabeth.

 Farewell (2)

    At that moment, she looked at the king. ¡®Wait! She said she¡¯s the third princess of the kingdom. That means¡­¡¯  My gaze following hers to Augustus.

    The king remained composed, but a faint smile flickered across his face before vanishing just as quickly. It was enough to confirm what everyone was beginning to suspect.

    ¡®She¡¯s adapting incredibly fast,¡¯ I thought to myself.

    ¡°The details aren¡¯t important,¡± Elizabeth said, cutting the matter short with a firmness that left no room for debate. ¡°Shall we?¡± she asked, turning her gaze to Leopold and the king.

    ¡°Yes, why not?¡± Leopold replied, tilting his head slightly. ¡°Does Your Majesty agree?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good idea,¡± Augustus remarked, his voice full of authority. ¡°It will prevent many issues and simplify certain situations.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s decided,¡± Elizabeth declared, not even waiting for our input. Her excitement was palpable, and the sparkle in her eyes made me sigh, a small smile creeping onto my lips.

    ¡®She¡¯s always like this when she gets excited about something,¡¯I shake my head lightly.

    Benjamin sighed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked at her. ¡°Well, once you¡¯ve decided on something, there¡¯s no stopping you.¡± His tone was half resignation, half teasing, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

    Midori, on the other hand, seemed a bit more apprehensive. Her blue eyes shimmered with a hint of melancholy as she murmured, ¡°Five years¡­¡± She paused, looking down at her small hands resting in her lap. ¡°That¡¯s a long time to be away.¡±

    Carlos broke the tension, slapping his thigh lightly as he exclaimed with enthusiasm, ¡°Five years, huh? I think this new life is going to be a lot more fun than I expected! Asgardian delicacies, here I come!¡± He grinned mischievously.

    Luca straightened his posture and spoke in a measured tone, ¡°Five years. It should be enough time for us to adjust.¡± His green eyes fixed on the floor, reflecting his serious attitude toward the situation, though he didn¡¯t seem particularly troubled by it.

    Nicole let out a theatrical sigh, propping her chin in her hand as she rolled her eyes with practiced elegance. ¡°Finally, it¡¯s about to begin. I was starting to get bored,¡± she remarked, a playful smile curving her lips. There was a boldness in her tone, as if she were ready to face this new world head-on with all the audacity she could muster.

    I let out an amused sigh, crossing my arms. ¡°What kind of guild leader doesn¡¯t even give us time to talk?¡± My tone was teasing, but the grin on my face made it clear I was only joking.

    Elizabeth, not missing a beat, pointed to herself with a big smile. ¡°You¡¯re looking right at her,¡± she said, brimming with confidence. Her energy was unmistakable.

    ¡°And as my first act in this world,¡± she began, raising a finger as if making a grand proclamation, ¡°I¡¯m banning us from using our old names. From now on, we¡¯re embracing our new identities 100%.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to explain why, right?¡± Elizabeth asked, raising an eyebrow, her challenging gaze sweeping across the group.

    Luca was the first to respond, his calm and thoughtful voice breaking the silence. ¡°No, we understand the reason well.¡± He nodded slightly, leaning against a pillar nearby.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Carlos, however, couldn¡¯t resist making a cheeky comment. ¡°We¡¯re not that thickheaded,¡± he said, throwing his arms back and stretching with a mischievous grin.

    ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re my favorite group,¡± Elizabeth declared, laughing as she crossed her arms, as if the matter was settled.

    ¡°We¡¯re your only group,¡± Benjamin quipped with a sly smile, clearly poking fun at her.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Elizabeth shot back without missing a beat, her tone playful, as if this somehow made their bond even more special.

    I looked at her, allowing myself to relax a little. ¡®Even in the middle of this chaos, she somehow makes it feel like we have everything under control,¡¯ I thought. My gaze traveled across the group, now more at ease.

    Despite the uncertainties, the changes, and the goodbyes, in that moment, I felt like we were ready for whatever was coming next.

    ¡°Lyz¡ª no, Alice¡­¡± I tried to say, but Carlos immediately cut me off.

    ¡°You worm, how dare you speak the princess¡¯s first name without her title?¡± Carlos exclaimed, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying himself.

    ¡°Ah! My deepest apologies, Princess Alice,¡± I corrected myself quickly, my expression exaggeratedly remorseful.

    Elizabeth nodded, exuding an overly dignified air, though it was clear she was struggling to hold back her laughter.

    Turning to Carlos, I adopted a more serious tone. ¡°Who granted you permission to call me¡ªme, Alexander Dracknum, seventh son of the Archduchy of Dracknum, bearer of royal blood¡ªa worm?¡± My eyes gleamed with feigned fury, but the amusement in my voice was unmistakable.

    Carlos raised his hands in mock surrender, though he couldn¡¯t hide the grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Forgive him, just as I have forgiven your transgressions,¡± Elizabeth¡ªnow Alice Roseta Van Allytharion, the princess¡ªinterjected with a satisfied smile. Her voice was soft and filled with authority, yet playful at the same time.

    ¡°I only forgive you because the princess requested it,¡± I replied, matching her serious tone but with a faint smile tugging at my lips.

    ¡°I humbly apologize on behalf of my vassal,¡± Benjamin chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm and humor.

    ¡°What else can you expect from the brutes of Magnum? They can¡¯t even control their own vassals,¡± Nicole added with a laugh, taking a playful jab at Benjamin as the group began to loosen up. The lightheartedness in the air made the weight of the situation we faced feel a little easier to bear.

    ¡°You are truly a group of entertaining individuals,¡± Leopold remarked, his smile carrying a touch of amusement. He observed the group like a scholar studying an intriguing experiment, his gaze sweeping across each of us with an air of approval. ¡°I have no concerns¡ªyou are perfect children.¡±

    Leopold¡¯s light comment made everyone flush slightly, embarrassed by the truth of it. After all, we were adults behaving like children.

    ¡°Leopold, it¡¯s time. We¡¯ve lingered here long enough¡ªdawn broke a few minutes ago,¡± Oswald interrupted. His voice was firm and practical, cutting through the atmosphere. His words made it clear that the moment of departure had arrived, and there was no delaying it.

    ¡°Before long, your servants and attendants will begin searching for you if we don¡¯t send you off now,¡± Oswald continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. ¡°Please, take your positions.¡±

    With a snap of his fingers, as if commanding the very air around us, magic circles began to materialize on the ground. They glowed with a soft yet intense light, filling the room with a pulsating energy that seemed to come alive.

    I looked around, watching as the others moved to their designated circles. The atmosphere grew heavy with a mix of nerves and acceptance, as though we were about to cross a threshold from which there would be no return. We exchanged silent glances¡ªfarewells spoken not with words, but with our eyes.

    ¡°In five years?¡± Alice asked, her captivating smile cutting through the tension as she tried to bring a sense of levity to the moment.

    ¡°In five years,¡± we all responded in unison, the words carrying a weight that echoed deep within our souls. The farewells were silent, but in our eyes and gestures, everything we wanted to say was conveyed.

    ¡°Well then, goodbye,¡± Oswald said, beginning the process. He snapped his fingers once more, and the glow from the magic circles intensified. The light began to rise around us, wrapping us in a luminous embrace. The magic filled the room with an otherworldly hum as the teleportation began.

    With one last glance at each other, we let the light take us, carrying us toward a destiny we could only hope to meet with courage.

 Gift

    The magical circles glowed brighter, their light rising around us, wrapping us in a luminous embrace. The teleportation was just about to happen.

    But suddenly, a voice cut through the air, interrupting the moment.

    "Sorry to spoil the mood, but I forgot to give you something," Leopold said, smiling mischievously. He approached each of us, halting the process that had already begun. "It¡¯s my gift to you, for deciding to take part in this crazy plan of mine."

    One by one, he came closer, handing something over as he hugged each of us. I watched him, trying to understand what was happening, but the sense of urgency didn¡¯t allow me to analyze it calmly.

    When he finally reached me, Leopold extended his hand and handed me a ring. The object was simple in appearance¡ªcompletely black but with golden streaks that seemed to intertwine like tree branches or even lightning, depending on how you looked at it. It was beautiful, but it had an enigmatic air that sparked more curiosity than certainty.

    He placed the ring in my palm and, with a careful gesture, pulled me into a hug. His voice lowered, becoming solemn, almost a whisper, just for my ears.

    "When you¡¯re alone, and wearing it on your index finger¡ªit has to be the index finger¡ªsay these words: ¡®I love fruit juice.¡¯ You¡¯ll only need to do it the first time.¡±

    ¡°¡®I love fruit juice?¡¯¡± I asked, confused, unable to grasp the meaning or reasoning behind those words.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the details. Good luck,¡± Leopold said with a serenity that felt strangely out of character for him.

    ¡®The more I talk to him, the weirder he gets, I muttered internally.¡¯

    With a quick movement, he stepped away, and the teleportation resumed. The light around us began to rise, enveloping us in an increasingly intense glow. The world around me started to distort, the edges of reality blurring, and in the blink of an eye, I found myself in a new place.

    The sense of disorientation was immediate. I took a deep breath, trying to process what was happening. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was a room. It was vast, imposing, with a decor that exuded a subtle kind of luxury, like those grand mansions I¡¯d seen in movies. The walls, in a deep and welcoming tone, seemed to absorb the soft light of the rising sun streaming through the windows. The space had an air of grandeur, but at the same time, it felt surprisingly cozy.

    I touched the ring in my hand, trying to process what Leopold had said. ¡®I love fruit juice? That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡¯

    Moving slowly, I approached a large mirror standing against the wall. The dim light reflected on its polished surface, and I gazed at my reflection. I had already accepted my fate, but I was still struggling to understand who I was now.

    What would this "new me" be? And what exactly was I supposed to do in this new world? Leopold had only mentioned that we were to help the kingdom, but he never explained how.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Lost in these thoughts, a deep and respectful voice broke my concentration.

    ¡°Young master?¡± The soft voice, carrying a firmness that commanded respect, made me turn instantly. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see the figure of a man bowing at the entrance.

    I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure, and replied in a calm, almost automatic tone. ¡°Albert?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see you¡¯re already awake. Yes, it¡¯s me, young master,¡± his voice held a note of restrained joy, as if relieved to see I was well. ¡°I came to let you know that breakfast is ready. Will you be coming down to the dining hall, or would you prefer to eat in your room?¡±

    The name Albert felt familiar, and without hesitation, I responded, ¡°Bring it to my room. I¡¯d like to eat alone today.¡±

    ¡°Yes, young master. I¡¯ll return in 15 minutes with your meal. Shall I bring fruit tea, as always?¡±

    I paused for a moment, considering his offer. ¡°No. Bring me a midnight orange juice with honey and lemon.¡±

    ¡°...¡± Albert was silent for a few seconds, as if pondering, perhaps a bit surprised by the request. Then he finally replied in a gentle tone, ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll be back shortly, young master.¡±

    After his departure, a sigh escaped my lips. It was the first time I had interacted with anyone in this new world as Alexander Dracknum, and although it still felt strange, Albert¡¯s reaction gave me a sense of familiarity. His gestures, his words¡ªeverything seemed to follow a well-established rhythm.

    I was surprised at how easily I was beginning to adopt the role.

    "It shouldn''t be that hard," I muttered to myself as I stepped away from the mirror. Alexander''s personality was strikingly similar to mine, only refined in certain ways, as if his upbringing and noble customs had sculpted who he was. But his core essence? It was almost identical. I could be him, just by adjusting my behavior when necessary.

    I turned to the massive bed that dominated the room, and the grandeur of the environment made me smile.

    ¡®Well, it¡¯s mine now¡¯, I thought, and with a slight push, I threw myself onto it, sinking into the softness of the mattress. It was the kind of bed I¡¯d only ever seen on TV, the kind reserved for the rich and powerful, where they rested in absolute luxury. I could almost imagine the sense of power they must feel, laying down on something like this every night.

    ¡®Not too bad¡¯, I mused, allowing myself to relax for a few moments. The comfort was undeniable, and somehow, that simple act of flopping onto the bed felt like a reflection of the new luxury I was beginning to embrace.

    But my thoughts didn¡¯t linger in laziness for long. They snapped back to the present as my gaze returned to the ring still resting in my hand, glinting faintly under the light of the room.

    ¡®Can¡¯t say it¡¯s ugly,¡¯ I thought, examining it. It was simple, but its subtle details caught the light in a way that made it seem alive. I rolled it between my fingers, testing its feel.

    "He said to wear it on the index finger," I murmured, sliding the ring onto the index finger of my right hand. The moment it touched my skin, I felt a faint discomfort.

    ¡®It¡¯s too big¡¯, I thought instinctively. But almost immediately, the ring began to shrink, adjusting itself until it fit perfectly.

    "Self-adjusting¡ªnice," I muttered, impressed. A small smile played on my lips as I watched it conform as if it were alive.

    Now firmly in place, I studied the ring again, my mind still full of questions. Following Leopold¡¯s instructions, I said the words he had told me to:

    ¡ª"I love fruit juice."¡ª

    Seconds passed, and nothing happened.

    "Huh?" I stared at the ring, waiting for something¡ªanything¡ªto occur, but the silence stretched on.

    "Nothing happened. That stingy old man," I grumbled, irritation bubbling up briefly before it faded away, as if this was just another one of destiny¡¯s quirks to poke fun at me.

    Suddenly, I felt a sharp, unexpected prick on my finger. "Ouch!" A faint sting lingered, and then the ring began to vibrate softly. At that moment, a strange sensation coursed through me, as if it were drawing something from my body.

    "Is this ring vampiric? Or is it forming some kind of bond like in those fantasy novels?" I wondered aloud, my voice betraying my unease. I hoped it was the latter¡ªsomething fantastical, controllable, less... unsettling.

 A Pink-Eyed Santa Claus

    To my relief, the ring stopped. It didn¡¯t continue draining my blood, only taking just enough to accomplish whatever it needed.

    ¡®Phew, at least I¡¯m not going to turn into a juice box upon arriving in another world,¡¯ I thought, chuckling softly at my own paranoia. It would¡¯ve been a stupid way to die, for sure, but at least my sense of humor was making a comeback.

    Still holding the hand where the ring rested, I observed it closely. It now seemed so inert, as if it had never done anything unusual.

    ¡ª ¡°I love fruit juice,¡±¡ª I said again, this time with a hint of impatience. As soon as the words left my mouth, a torrent of information flooded my mind. It wasn¡¯t painful, but it wasn¡¯t comfortable either. It felt like opening a game menu and suddenly being confronted with a list of skills, descriptions, and options.

    ¡°Wait¡­ is this¡­ a book? No, a magical tome!¡± I realized, as the information began organizing itself in my mind. The first thing that appeared was a detailed list of my elemental affinities. Some of them, as Leopold had mentioned, were expected, but others were a pleasant surprise.

    ¡®I must be really talented to have so many affinities, even if some aren¡¯t of perfect grade,¡¯ I thought as I analyzed the information. In this world, elemental affinities were divided into grades based on their strength and potential.

    The grades, in ascending order, started with the lower grade, followed by common, intermediate, superior, and finally the perfect grade, reserved for the rarest and most gifted individuals.

    ¡°So, I have three perfect-grade affinities: earth, thunder, and wind. Exactly as Leopold said earlier,¡± I thought as I continued deciphering the data provided by the ring.

    ¡°Additionally, I have a superior-grade affinity in fire.¡±

    ¡°Two intermediate-grade affinities: metal and water.¡±

    ¡°And finally, two common-grade affinities: light and darkness. No lower-grade affinities and no talent for the other elements.¡±

    As I analyzed all this, I couldn¡¯t help but smile with satisfaction. ¡°I guess I¡¯m pretty talented, after all,¡± I murmured, almost to myself, feeling a wave of pride.

    Three perfect-grade affinities were rare enough to grab anyone¡¯s attention in this world. Even the other affinities, despite not being perfect-grade, were still respectable.

    I turned the ring on my finger, observing how it seemed almost alive, adjusting to my touch and responding to my attention. It was fascinating how much that tiny artifact contained. The steady flow of information in my mind felt as if I were unlocking a secret manual for this world.

    The second function I discovered was appraisal. The idea filled me with excitement. According to the knowledge settling into my mind, all I needed to do was use the "appraise" command¡ªeither spoken or in thought¡ªand touch an object to receive detailed information about it. This functionality was incredibly useful, allowing me to understand its quality and magical properties.

    ¡®This is just like a game ability,¡¯ I was marveling at the possibilities. Instantly, I began glancing around the room, thinking about objects I could test it on.

    I picked up a book from the table beside the bed and closed my eyes, focusing.

    ¡ª ¡°Appraise,¡±¡ª  I murmured, almost feeling the word resonate through the ring like a command. Within seconds, my mind was flooded with information about the book:

    ¡ª Title: Memoirs of Aetheryon.

    Author: Unknown.

    Material: Enchanted leather, resistant to time.

    Magical Property: None.

    Contents: A historical narrative focused on the rise of the Allyth¨¦on Kingdom. ¡ª

    ¡®This is going to be useful,¡¯ I thought, placing the book back. That functionality alone was impressive, but the third was the true gift Leopold had given me.

    ¡°He really is a pink-eyed Santa Claus,¡± I joked to myself, still processing the magnitude of what I had received. The third function was something I could barely believe. The ring contained a detailed guide on elemental magic, specifically tailored to the affinities I possessed. It included practical instructions and even mental demonstrations of how to directly use magic and cast spells¡ªa sort of interactive manual for magic.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°This is going to save so much time.¡± However, there were limits. The guide only covered spells and magic up to level 3, which were considered beginner-level. In this world, magic was divided into nine levels. Levels 1¨C3 were beginner-level magic, levels 4¨C6 were intermediate, and levels 7¨C9 were advanced. Beyond that were the Legendary, Arcane, and Mythical tiers of magic. Those who reached these levels and created their own Legendary-tier magic were known as Archmages.

    Magic beyond the Legendary level hadn¡¯t been used in over 500 years, according to historical records.

    ¡®Well, that changes today,¡¯ I thought, a grin spreading across my face.

    Even though these were just beginner-level spells, they were more than enough to get started. Based on my newfound memories, more advanced magic would have to be learned through formal training and instruction within the Dracknum family as part of their foundational education, or through other organizations.

    My heart raced at the thought of the possibilities. I immediately began exploring the guide, my mind absorbing every detail like a sponge. The ring¡¯s interface was incredibly intuitive. All I had to do was focus on what I wanted to learn, and the instructions would surface in my mind. It was fascinating how each gesture and word needed to cast magic was explained with such clarity.

    I was so engrossed that the world around me began to fade away. My eyes were fixed on the ring, which glowed faintly as I navigated its functions. The flow of information was seamless, and I lost track of time. When a firm knock on the door interrupted my focus, it took me a second to realize where I was.

    ¡°Young master, it¡¯s me, Albert. I¡¯ve brought your breakfast,¡± the grave and respectful voice of the butler echoed through the room, pulling me back to reality.

    I blinked a few times, the abrupt transition leaving me slightly disoriented. I glanced around, realizing that more than ten minutes had passed since I started exploring the ring¡¯s functionalities.

    ¡°Come in, Albert,¡± I replied, my voice sounding steadier than I expected. ¡®Well, at least I¡¯m getting the hang of this,¡¯ I thought, trying to appear natural.

    The door opened slowly, and Albert entered, carrying a flawlessly arranged silver tray. His movements were precise, almost choreographed, as if every gesture had been rehearsed. He carried the weight of his years with dignity; his graying hair and upright posture exuded authority and experience.

    ¡°Good morning, young master,¡± he said, bowing slightly before walking toward the small table near the window. ¡°I¡¯ve prepared midnight orange juice with honey and lemon, as requested. I hope it meets your expectations.¡±

    I watched as he placed the tray on the table with an almost exaggerated delicacy. The soft, citrusy aroma of the juice mingled with the smell of fresh bread and melted butter. My stomach, which had taken a backseat until now, gave a small, protesting growl of hunger.

    ¡°Thank you, Albert,¡± I said, trying to mimic the confidence Alexander radiated in my memories. I walked toward the table with deliberate steps, pulled out the chair, and sat down, observing the tray before me.

    The glass of juice seemed to shimmer in the light of the rising sun streaming through the window. I picked it up with slight hesitation, feeling the cool glass against my fingers. The golden liquid was as inviting as the citrus aroma wafting gently upward.

    Albert stood by my side, hands clasped behind his back and an impeccable posture that seemed to be an intrinsic part of his very being. His gaze was attentive yet respectful, measuring my every reaction without ever overstepping the bounds of his position. There was something undeniably reassuring about his presence.

    ¡°Is it to your liking, young master?¡± he asked after a few moments, his deep and carefully refined voice breaking the silence.

    I took a sip, feeling the flavors flood my mouth. It was a balanced blend¡ªthe acidity of the orange mellowed by the honey, with a refreshing hint of lemon. I nodded slightly, attempting to mask my surprise. ¡°It¡¯s almost perfect, Albert. Thank you.¡±

    He inclined his head slightly, though his eyes reflected a faint dissatisfaction. ¡°I¡¯m pleased to hear that, but could you tell me what would make it perfect, young master?¡±

    I leaned forward slightly, setting the glass back on the table as I pondered his question. ¡°Perhaps a little more honey,¡± I answered sincerely. ¡°The flavor is balanced... too perfect, almost. But for me, it¡¯s missing a touch more sweetness.¡±

    ¡°Understood, young master,¡± Albert replied with a subtle bow. ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll take that detail into account. Should you require anything else, simply call for me. I will be just outside, as always.¡±

    I watched as he left with firm, disciplined steps, the door closing silently behind him. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a deep breath. The interaction had gone smoothly, but I couldn¡¯t help the wave of relief that followed.

    ¡®First interaction as Alexander: successfully completed,¡¯ I thought with a hint of pride.

 A Good Breakfast

    My stomach gave a faint growl of hunger, pulling my attention back to the breakfast laid out before me. The food was arranged impeccably on the tray: four golden slices of toast, two perfectly cooked eggs, crispy strips of bacon, what appeared to be artisanal sausages, and a small bowl of colorful fruit salad. And, of course, there was the midnight orange juice¡ªa fruit so named because it could only be harvested at midnight; otherwise, it would wither immediately after being picked.

    I smiled slightly. ¡®At least breakfast here isn¡¯t too different from Earth¡¯s.¡¯

    I began assembling an improvised sandwich. Grabbing two slices of toast, I placed an egg in the middle, followed by the crispy bacon and sausages sliced lengthwise. With the first bite, I was immediately surprised by the flavor. "Mmm! Delicious," I murmured, unable to hide my satisfaction.

    ¡®How can something as simple as an egg taste this good? No, it¡¯s not just the egg¡­ it¡¯s everything.¡¯ Every ingredient seemed to have been prepared with care and exceptional quality.

    As I ate, my eyes fell on the ring on my finger. Its subtle shine caught the sunlight, and I turned it slowly between my fingers.

    ¡®For now, I can¡¯t even use the most basic level-one spells. Why do the Dracknums have so much bureaucracy?¡¯ I murmured, letting a hint of irritation slip.

    Based on Alexander¡¯s memories, the Dracknum family had a unique method of educating their direct descendants. During the first ten years of their lives, children were given complete freedom to choose how to spend their time, as long as they received the basic education required of nobles. This freedom included training with swords, exploring languages, playing, or simply doing nothing.

    ¡®And Alexander,¡¯ I thought, ¡®Chose to spend most of his time in the library.¡¯ That memory made me sigh. Of course, I loved books too, but Alexander¡¯s level of dedication was extreme. He would spend hours in the library, even falling asleep among piles of books, diving into stories, treatises, and ancient manuscripts.

    As I took another bite of the sandwich, a low laugh escaped my lips. ¡®If I was an avid reader before, I¡¯m officially a compulsive one now,¡¯ I murmured to myself, allowing a moment of relaxation.

    The taste of the food, combined with reflections on my new life, seemed to soothe the torrent of thoughts that had occupied my mind since I arrived here.

    A fresh breeze entered through the open window, carrying the gentle scent of morning. I looked outside and smiled, taking in the view before me. There were no towering buildings or high walls, just a vast green plain with gentle undulations that seemed to dance under the rising sun. The landscape was peaceful, almost idyllic, and for the first time since I woke up, I felt a strange sense of belonging.

    "Well, at least I should be able to use basic elemental magic," I sighed, an unusually relaxed smile on my face as my gaze wandered into the distance. According to Alexander¡¯s memories, this was the Dracknum residence on the outskirts of the capital. Though the family owned a property within the city, the patriarch preferred this one¡ªapparently for its freedom and view. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡®My new father really has good taste,¡¯ I murmured as the wind gently caressed my face.

    I finished breakfast and wiped my hands with an elegant napkin. Albert returned shortly after, deftly removing the tray and leaving behind a crystal-clear jug of water and a glass.

    "Young Master," he said in his impeccably polite yet firm tone, "we¡¯ll be departing in an hour. Please ensure you are ready by then."

    His gaze swept over me from head to toe, and I realized something was wrong when I saw his brow furrow slightly.

    Puzzled, I glanced down and immediately understood why: I was still dressed in pajamas. To me, they resembled a cassock, similar to those worn by priests, but clearly tailored for a noble child.

    "I understand, Albert. I¡¯ll bathe and change," I replied, embarrassed by the oversight. ¡®Though, really, this is Leopold¡¯s fault, not mine. I¡¯ve probably been wearing these since the transformation happened¡¯, I thought, my expression returning to normal.

    Albert hesitated for a moment before asking, as naturally as ever, "Young Master, would you like assistance with your bathing or dressing?"

    I rolled my eyes but maintained composure. Drawing on Alexander¡¯s memories, I responded confidently, "Why do you still insist on asking, Albert?"

    He tilted his head slightly, the way he always did when about to give a response he knew was futile but delivered out of sheer stubbornness.

    "Perhaps one day the Young Master will accept? It¡¯s rather unusual for a young noble to wash and dress himself. If rumors were to spread, people might think the family had abandoned you."

    I let out a short laugh and shook my head.

    "Albert, it¡¯s been almost two years since I made that decision. If rumors were going to spread, they would¡¯ve done so by now." Crossing my arms, I smiled¡ªa small, childish reminder of my determination. "Besides, a noble should know how to take care of himself, don¡¯t you think?"

    Albert sighed, clearly resigning himself to the argument, though his dignity remained intact. "Understood, Young Master. I¡¯ll be available should you require anything."

    Once Albert left, I took advantage of the silence to rise and approach the window again. By now, the sunlight had fully illuminated the room, highlighting the refined details of the furniture and the soft texture of the carpet beneath my bare feet. The fresh, clean air wafting through the window brought with it a strange sense of calm, as if, for a brief moment, everything was exactly as it should be.

    "Let¡¯s do this," I murmured, a renewed sense of determination surging within me. It was time to make the most of the minutes I had before heading out.

    I raised my hand and looked at the ring, feeling its discreet yet constant presence, as if it were an extension of myself. This time, there was no need to recite the activation code. A simple thought, a mere flicker of intent, and it responded. The interface materialized in my mind just as before¡ªclear and organized, resembling a game menu or, perhaps more fittingly, a virtual library.

    ¡®I¡¯ve got about 15 to 30 minutes,¡¯ I thought, analyzing the options before me. ¡®Enough time to try learning something simple.¡¯

    I filtered the available spells, focusing solely on the basic elemental ones. These foundational spells, also known as Level 0 magic¡ªor "task magic" in some regions¡ªwere perfect for beginners.They relied solely on the elemental mana present in the environment, bypassing the need for complex incantations, elaborate rituals, or intricate magic circles. Depending on the user''s skill, some could even be cast without vocal commands.

    These spells weren¡¯t meant for grand feats but were invaluable for simple tasks¡ªor for helping novice mages acclimate to the feel of magic, whether elemental or otherwise.

    I focused only on the magic that aligned with my affinities and required less time to master.

    "Let''s find one that suits me."

 My First Magic

    My eyes landed on one of the options: ¡ª Breeze ¡ª. It seemed simple enough to start with. Its description claimed it was a spell designed to create light air currents, ideal for clearing surfaces or freshening up spaces.

    I stood up straight, trying to focus. According to the guide, the first step was to sense the mana particles around me, something that sounded easy in theory but required practice and sensitivity.

    Closing my eyes, I tried to isolate my perception. The sound of the wind outside and the gentle chirping of birds were the only noises filling the room. I took a deep breath, seeking that state of focus mentioned in the guide. The instructions emphasized picturing mana¡ªthe fundamental energy of all magic¡ªas tiny particles in the air, floating around me, waiting to be shaped.

    At first, I felt nothing. Just the ordinary air: empty, dull, uninspiring. Frustrated, I adjusted my posture, letting my shoulders relax as I steadied my breathing.

    ¡°Come on¡­ I can do this,¡± I muttered to myself, spurring myself on. After a few minutes, something shifted. It wasn¡¯t a physical sensation, exactly, but more of a presence. Like a faint vibration in the air, something invisible but pulsing in sync with my breathing.

    ¡®Now, convert it to an element,¡¯ I recalled from the guide. Air was supposed to be the easiest for me, given my natural affinity for wind. I focused on channeling the mana I sensed, shaping it into gentle air currents. I imagined them swirling around me, light and soft, like a breeze.

    Then, I felt it, a response. A faint current of air moved around me, so subtle it was almost imperceptible, but it was there. My eyes shot open, and a grin spread across my face.

    ¡°It worked,¡± I murmured, pleased with even this small bit of progress.

    I tried again, this time moving my hand forward as though guiding the breeze. ¡ª "Breeze." ¡ª  The current obeyed, drifting toward the nearby furniture. A few loose sheets of paper on the desk fluttered slightly. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a start.

    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s not a big deal, but it¡¯s something,¡± I said aloud, energized by the experience. There was something strangely satisfying about casting magic, even something as basic as this.

    I wanted to try again, to see if I could make it stronger, but the sound of the door opening broke my concentration.

    ¡°Young master,¡± called Albert, his voice carrying a respectful firmness that immediately demanded my attention.

    He stepped into the room carrying a travel coat, meticulously folded, as if it were an extension of his own discipline. ¡°The hour of departure is approaching. I suggest you begin preparing yourself.¡±

    I straightened my posture. There was something about Albert¡¯s presence that naturally demanded composure¡ªnot in an oppressive way, but rather as if he quietly expected the best from me. He wasn¡¯t the type to judge, but his demeanor alone inspired a sense of discipline.

    ¡°All right, Albert. I was just enjoying the view for a moment,¡± I replied, my tone calm but tinged with a hint of casualness as I gestured toward the window. A soft, spontaneous smile crossed my face, and I noticed Albert¡¯s typically rigid expression softened briefly in response.

    ¡°The young master is right. The view truly is magnificent,¡± he agreed with a slight nod. But then, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ¡°However, I must insist you hurry. Or shall I summon the maids to assist you?¡±

    I rolled my eyes, playing along. ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary, I was just about to bathe anyway,¡± I shot back, dashing toward the bathroom as I heard Albert¡¯s muffled chuckle behind me.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The en-suite bathroom was simply stunning. Polished marble floors and walls reflected the soft natural light filtering in through a tall window, and at the center of the space was an elegant, oversized bathtub surrounded by luminous stones that emitted a gentle, multicolored glow. Everything was impeccably arranged: plush towels folded to perfection and an array of aromatic oils neatly lined up on a silver tray.

    ¡®This world truly operates on another level,¡¯ I thought as I took in the sheer attention to detail. But one thing, in particular, caught my eye: the glowing stones surrounding the bathtub. Their vibrant hues shifted between warm and cool tones. Curious, I reached out to touch one of them, feeling a faint pulse of energy beneath my fingertips.

    ¡°¡ªAppraise¡ª,¡± I murmured, activating the interface on my ring. A translucent display appeared, providing details about the object.

    Marble Bathtub

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Material: Polished enchanted marble, resistant to weathering and mana impact up to Level 2.</li>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Magical Properties: Embedded with elemental stones of earth, fire, ice, and water, along with a self-cleaning enchantment.</li>

    </ul>

    A quiet laugh escaped me. ¡°Nobles really spare no expense when it comes to luxury and convenience,¡± I remarked, pressing an ornate metal button to fill the tub. Hot water began to flow, conjured from the water stones and heated by the fire stones. Steam rose almost instantly, filling the room with a comforting warmth.

    I let myself sink into the water, feeling the heat soothe my muscles. It was exactly the kind of relief I needed after everything¡ª so many changes, so many challenges. For a moment, I allowed my thoughts to drift, carried away by the tranquil atmosphere and the steady rhythm of the warm water lapping against me.

    I let myself sink deeper into the water, letting the warmth melt away the tension in my muscles. It was a much-needed reprieve after so many changes and challenges. For a brief moment, my mind wandered, untethered, allowing the steam and silence to lull me into a tranquil state.

    After the bath, I dried off with a soft towel and dressed in the outfit that had been prepared for me. The ensemble was made of fine, elegant fabric¡ªpredominantly black with subtle golden accents that marked Alexander''s status as a member of the Dracknum family. The fit was impeccable, exuding nobility without being overly ostentatious.

    Standing before the mirror, I studied my reflection. Alexander¡¯s appearance was pristine, each detail carefully polished. I adjusted the ring on my index finger, its faint shimmer nearly invisible in the room¡¯s light. Taking a deep breath, I felt a strange mix of apprehension and resolve.

    ¡°Time to face the next challenge,¡± I murmured to myself, turning toward the door.

    As I stepped out of the bathroom, Albert was waiting just as promised. His sharp gaze scanned me from head to toe, silently assessing my appearance. The faint approval in his eyes didn¡¯t go unnoticed, though he said nothing, offering only a small nod.

    ¡°We are ready to depart, young master. The carriage awaits,¡± he informed me, his posture as composed as ever.

    I nodded, tugging lightly at the collar of my outfit. ¡°Very well, Albert. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    As I followed Albert down the corridor toward the mansion¡¯s grand entrance, I couldn¡¯t resist one final glance back at the room I was leaving behind. It was a grand space, no doubt, but something told me that what lay ahead¡ªbeyond these walls¡ªwould be far more challenging and exhilarating.

    I nodded once more, adjusting the collar again out of habit. ¡°All right, Albert. Let¡¯s begin.¡±

    Walking through the corridor, I felt the weight of growing expectations settling on my shoulders. The Dracknum family mansion exuded an air of gravitas, its wide halls adorned with golden and black ornaments that mirrored the power and grandeur of the lineage. When we finally reached the main entrance, the scene before me was one of bustling preparation.

    Outside, the estate was alive with activity. Knights tightened their armor and inspected their horses, while servants scurried about, hauling luggage and organizing the carriages that made up a small convoy. Some carriages were plain, clearly intended for transporting supplies and staff, but at the center stood the more opulent ones¡ªcrafted from polished wood, adorned with silver embellishments, and detailed in gold.

    ¡®This is truly a fleet,¡¯ I thought, my eyes scanning the scene. It was like watching a carefully orchestrated procession unfold.

    But my thoughts were interrupted by an impetuous and sarcastic voice, filled with irony and disdain.

    ¡°And to think, the last one really is the last.¡±

 First Family Trip

    "To think that the last one would literally be the last,"

    My gaze fixed on the source of the voice, which came from one of the most elegant carriages, where a feminine figure was about to step in. Her voice was laced with irony. Her posture was flawless, and the purple dress she wore seemed to almost shine under the sun. Vanessa. The fourth child, one of my older sisters. She shared an undeniable resemblance to me: long black hair, the same angular family face, but her eyes were brown, and her skin was pale in contrast to my darker complexion.

    "I apologize for the delay," I replied politely, tilting my head slightly in a formal gesture. "I stayed up late last night finishing a certain book that I only find here."

    Vanessa raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply adjusting her hair with a neutral expression. Before the silence could stretch further, a deep and boisterous voice interrupted the exchange.

    "There¡¯s no need to apologize, Alexander. You¡¯ve arrived just in time," declared another voice, and soon I felt a large, heavy hand rest on my head, ruffling my hair slightly. I followed the hand upwards, finding a tall man with a robust physique.

    "..."

    I remained quiet for a moment, surprised by the imposing presence of the man, whose face I couldn¡¯t see because of the sun.

    "What¡¯s wrong, Alexander? Normally, when you see me, you start talking nonstop about some new book you¡¯ve read!" he crouched down to my level, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

    Looking him in the eye, I could finally recognize him through Alexander¡¯s memories. It was C¨¦sar. The second son of the family, my older brother with the same mother. He had a striking appearance, with strong features, golden eyes, leaning more towards amber that shone with energy, and a permanent smile that exuded charisma. He wasn¡¯t overly muscular, but still radiated strength, like someone who could command a room with his presence.

    "C¨¦sar!" I instinctively exclaimed, my voice coming out excited and completely childish and sincere. "Good thing you brought it up. Just last night I read a..."

    ¡°Hahahaha!" He laughed loudly, cutting me off with his boisterous laughter before I could finish.

    "There¡¯s the Alexander I know!" His laugh was contagious, and the smile on his face made the tension in the air disappear.

    "Early in the morning, making such a ruckus. It could only be you." A third voice rang out, this time more refined, carrying a tone of superiority. It was Luminus, the eldest son, the first child, and the heir to the family.

    Luminus¡¯ presence was completely different from C¨¦sar¡¯s. Where C¨¦sar was warm and expansive, Luminus was cold and calculating. He was taller, with impeccable posture, wearing a military-style uniform in black and shining midnight blue. His serious expression revealed nothing but authority. His golden eyes gleamed with an almost intimidating intensity, and the long sword at his waist ¡ª resembling a katana ¡ª caught the attention of anyone nearby.

    "Come on, Luminus, relax a bit. That serious face of yours is why the kids don¡¯t like you," C¨¦sar joked, looking at him with a teasing smile.

    "There¡¯s nothing to be done when the children fail to understand the true nobility of..." Luminus began, but his sentence was abruptly cut off. He noticed my gaze fixed on his sword, and his golden eyes narrowed as he assessed me.

    I felt a shiver run down my spine. It wasn¡¯t fear, but the way he looked at me made me feel like an object under scrutiny. "Is something of interest to you, Alexander?" Luminus asked, his voice carrying a tone that was both a question and a judgment

    "Oh, yes, yes!" I responded quickly, raising my hands in surrender. "I just... thought your sword was impressive. It¡¯s as elegant as... deadly, I presume."

    Luminus kept his gaze for a few more seconds before relaxing his shoulders slightly. "You have good taste, at least," he replied, adjusting his posture and lightly touching the hilt of his sword with pride.

    Vanessa sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange. "It¡¯s so typical of you two to make a fuss over nothing," she said, adjusting her dress as she entered the carriage.

    C¨¦sar shrugged, laughing. "She¡¯s just jealous because no one compliments her dresses."

    "C¨¦sar, please don¡¯t make things worse," I murmured, but I couldn¡¯t help but smile at his carefree attitude.

    Luminus merely snorted, turning to Vanessa. "Let¡¯s go. We¡¯re already late enough."

    As the rest of the family moved, I felt they all shared something in common: an aura that was impossible to ignore. It was as if invisible swords were pointed at me, sharp and ready to cut any mistake. These were the Dracknum. And now, I was one of them.

    I walked toward the carriage assigned to me, trying to maintain my composure. But before I could reach the door, I felt a firm hand grip my arm.

    "Where do you think you¡¯re going?" Luminus'' voice was cold, controlled, but carried an undeniable authoritative tone. His golden eyes fixed on mine, assessing me like a general observing a rebellious soldier.

    "To my carriage?" I replied, with a slight hesitation, returning the question in a rhetorical tone.

    "No. Father said you will come with us, in the main carriage. Hurry up." He didn¡¯t wait for my response, firmly holding my hand as he began to guide me toward the largest of the carriages, the one clearly destined for the patriarch.

    My heart immediately quickened. A mix of surprise, apprehension, and curiosity overwhelmed me.

    Vanessa, who was already settled in her carriage, raised an eyebrow, her expression slightly displeased.

    C¨¦sar, on the other hand, simply shrugged, as if he had expected this.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    As we approached, I saw a knight open the door to the main carriage. Inside, sitting with impeccable posture, was he: the patriarch. The figure who commanded the Dracknum family.

    As we approached, I saw a knight open the door to the main carriage. Inside, sitting with impeccable posture, was he: the patriarch. The figure who commanded the Dracknum family.

    A newspaper rested in his hands, his golden eyes, like the sun, fixed on the printed words, while a long axe rested on a weapon rack just below the window of the carriage.

    His skin was pale, like polished marble, and his face had elegant, imposing features, with a black beard shaped like an anchor. His hair, short and perfectly combed to the left, was a glossy black, each strand seeming to be placed in the right position. He seemed to have been sculpted by divine hands, but there was something about his presence that made my whole body freeze.

    My breath caught in my throat. The atmosphere around that carriage felt heavier, as if an invisible force was pushing me back. Each step toward him required superhuman effort, and before I realized it, my feet simply stopped moving.

    Luminus immediately noticed. His hand, still holding mine, tensed as he felt my hesitation. He turned to me, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What¡¯s going on?" he asked, his tone more direct than concerned.

    My mouth opened, but no words came out. My body trembled slightly, a primal instinct telling me I was standing before something impossible to face. It was as if an untamable beast were there, and no matter how hard I tried, there was no escaping it.

    At that moment, as if sensing the confusion in the air, the patriarch¡¯s eyes turned toward me just as Luminus tried to understand why I had stopped so suddenly. It was a penetrating, firm gaze, but strangely welcoming, like a predator sizing up its prey, deciding to spare it.

    The patriarch¡¯s voice, low and controlled, finally broke the silence.

    "Interesting."

    "Alexander," he continued, calmly folding the newspaper and setting it aside. His voice had a calm tone, but it was like a muffled thunder, laden with authority that made each word echo in my mind.

    Still, my body didn''t respond. Just as I had seen an aura around Leopold, his aura was a mix of light blue and midnight blue, imposing, as if ready to hunt me at any moment.

    My eyes were fixed on his, the eyes that seemed to know everything about me. It was impossible to look away, as if those golden eyes held my soul.

    "Alexander," C¨¦sar called, his voice lighter, yet still laced with concern. "He doesn''t bite, you know? I mean, not that I know of..." He chuckled. "Come on, little brother. We¡¯re not going to stand here all day."

    I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. ''He''s just a man,'' I thought, trying to convince myself. ''Just a man. And I am also a Dracknum.''

    Gathering the little strength I could find, I took a hesitant step toward the carriage. With every movement, I felt the weight on me intensify, but finally, I crossed the threshold and entered.

    The patriarch watched me the entire time, his expression remaining neutral, but there was something in his gaze that seemed to say: Good choice. He gestured to the seat in front of him with a small movement.

    I sat down in the carriage, trying to keep calm, but there was something oppressive about the atmosphere, as if the air had become thicker, harder to breathe. My hands still trembling, I pressed them against my pants, seeking the comfort of the fabric.

    The carriage was incredibly wide and luxurious, but at that moment, it felt like a tiny, suffocating space, as if the walls were closing in with every passing second. Every detail, from the cushioned walls to the small golden ornaments, seemed designed to be admired, but I could barely absorb it.

    Luminus, who had just entered, broke the silence with his firm, direct voice. "Finally," he said, with a tone that, while not particularly affectionate, showed a certain satisfaction. "We¡¯re ready to depart."

    The patriarch, seated calmly in front of me, merely nodded, signaling to Luminus that the order had been given. Without hesitation, Luminus leaned out of the carriage and shouted, ¡°The patriarch has given the order! Head on toward the State of Dracknum!¡±

    The carriage began to move, the sound of the wheels on the road and the horses trotting echoing faintly inside. I stood there, frozen like a statue, trying not to do anything that would draw attention.

    The silence between me and the patriarch seemed to stretch for minutes, the weight of his presence crushing any attempt at lightness I might have tried to create.

    My gaze drifted around the carriage almost reflexively, scanning the environment for distraction. The beautiful axe hanging below the window caught my attention, and the details of the ceiling, carved with immaculate precision, made my mind wander, trying to find something¡ªanything¡ªthat would pull me away from the tension that hung in the air. But all of it was in vain, and when my eyes finally returned to the other side of the carriage, our gazes locked.

    The patriarch¡¯s eyes were golden, like the king¡¯s, but there was something more in them, something profound, as if he could see even the darkest corners of my soul. I¡¯m not sure how long we stared at each other, but it felt like an eternity. A strange sensation, as if he was waiting for something from me, or worse, trying to examine me.

    ¡°Alexander,¡± his voice was soft, but cutting. It was as if every word he spoke carried an invisible pressure. ¡°Tell me, what do you feel when you look at me?¡±

    I didn¡¯t know what to say. I wanted to speak, but the words were caught in my throat. ¡°...¡±

    The silence dragged on too long. I didn¡¯t dare look away, though my body screamed to do so. The patriarch¡¯s words felt like a flame approaching fuel, ready to explode. But I still didn¡¯t know how to react. Deep down, I knew what he wanted from me: an answer, a reaction. And I? I was paralyzed.

    Luminus, seeing the discomfort in the air, remained silent. He knew what the patriarch wanted. I could see it in his eyes. He was watching me, curious about how I would respond.

    The patriarch, seeming to understand what was going through my mind, smiled faintly, a smile that was not kind, but more like a bitter irony. ¡°Let me rephrase the question,¡± he said, his voice still calm, but now with a heavier weight.

    ¡°What do you feel, what do you see with those eyes of yours when you look at me?¡±

    The question hit harder, more directly, like a blow. ¡®What do I see? I thought. What I see... is a damn beast, that¡¯s what I see!¡¯ The thought came suddenly, uncontrollably, but the words never left my mouth. It was as if the idea of describing the feeling in words was impossible.

    The silence in the air was oppressive. My fingers, which had been trembling before, now clenched into the fabric of my clothes, as if that was the only anchor I still had. He wouldn¡¯t give up, I knew that. And so, with a resigned sigh, I decided I had to face this.

    ¡°What do I see when I look at you?¡± The words came out weak, almost a whisper, but it was the only thing I could say. My words felt like a prayer, a desperate attempt to keep my sanity intact.

    The patriarch didn¡¯t respond immediately. The tension between us was palpable, as if time had stopped, or at least stretched to the point where every movement, every gesture, felt amplified. His gaze was unyielding, as if he expected me to say exactly what he wanted to hear.

    ¡°Yes, what do you see?¡± he replied, his voice calm but with a hint of curiosity, as if testing my limits.

 What Do You See?

    I took a deep breath, trying to think quickly, searching for a way to be honest without crumbling under his presence. I knew I had to stand firm, but I also knew that whatever I said would carry weight. With visible effort, I spoke:¡°Well¡­ when I look at you, I see the patriarch of the family.¡±

    My voice was steadier than I expected, but there was still a hint of doubt, as if I was trying to convince myself of the words I¡¯d just uttered. And in that moment, the silence grew heavier, as though the patriarch was carefully measuring my response. Luminus, standing by my side, remained resolutely silent, though his curious gaze stayed fixed on me.

    The patriarch raised an eyebrow. ¡°What you see is the patriarch?¡± he repeated, as if testing the boundaries of my thoughts.

    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, forcing a confidence I didn¡¯t fully feel.

    He tilted his head slightly, and his golden eyes¡ªdeep and piercing like molten metal¡ªlocked onto mine with even more intensity. That gaze made my breath hitch for a moment.

    ¡°Are you certain?¡± he asked, his voice deeper now, almost a restrained growl, like a predator stalking its prey. ¡°Do you not see a beast? A man cloaked in an animalistic aura, poised to hunt you down?¡±

    He leaned back into the leather armchair with the same calm as someone sharpening a blade. Yet his words weighed down the air inside the carriage, so dense I could almost feel it pressing against my ears.

    The aura around him seemed to pulse, as though something inside him was waiting to break free. I swallowed hard. It was the first time I¡¯d so clearly understood what he was capable of.

    ''He¡¯s completely dissected me'', I thought, gripping my knees tightly to steady myself. I couldn¡¯t show weakness¡ªnot here, not now.

    Luminus, upon hearing the patriarch¡¯s words, raised an eyebrow¡ªan almost imperceptible movement, but one that didn¡¯t escape my notice.

    I kept my gaze fixed on him, my body still tense but no longer wavering. I knew that everything that came next hinged on my response.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter whether you¡¯re a Beast, a Dragon, or a Demon,¡± I said, my voice more resolute now, trying to channel Alexander¡¯s strength into my words. ¡°What I see is my father¡ªthe patriarch of the Dracknum Family.¡±

    As the words left my mouth, I felt a weight lift off my chest, like I¡¯d finally shed an invisible burden.

    I paused briefly, but before he could respond, I added, ¡°Not to mention, my father would never hunt me down, right?¡± This time, my voice was softer, yet it carried a distinct note of conviction.

    The patriarch remained silent for a moment. His expression stayed unreadable, but then he let out a low, deep chuckle¡ªa sound that seemed equal parts amused and satisfied with my response.

    His smile widened, as if he had been testing something within me and was pleased with the result. His presence, already commanding, seemed to expand and fill the entire carriage, an authority so palpable it was almost suffocating. Yet, paradoxically, it didn¡¯t feel threatening. Instead, there was an air of amusement about him that somehow made the tension even more pronounced.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°You¡¯re far more interesting than the others,¡± he remarked in a low, almost conspiratorial tone. His gaze stayed locked on me¡ªnot hostile, but deeply scrutinizing, as if he could read every breath, every flicker of movement. It was as if he could see straight through me.

    The weight of his attention made me feel as though I was being observed from every angle. And yet, amidst all of this, there was something curious in his eyes, something that hinted at intrigue rather than judgment.

    ¡°No matter if I¡¯m a Dragon or a Demon,¡± he continued with an imperturbable calm, ¡°you claim to see the patriarch. So, it doesn¡¯t matter what I am¡ªI¡¯m still your father¡­¡±

    ¡°And because I¡¯m your father, I wouldn¡¯t hunt you down?¡± His voice softened, still carrying that unrelenting aura that made it hard to breathe. He seemed to be mulling over my words, almost as though they had stirred something within him.

    After a few seconds, he turned his gaze to Luminus.

    ¡°Luminus, I must admit, we¡¯ve finally found someone who¡¯s outdone your answer.¡± The patriarch chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the moment. Luminus didn¡¯t respond immediately, but I noticed him avert his eyes, his shoulders tensing slightly. He didn¡¯t seem offended by the patriarch¡¯s teasing; instead, there was an unmistakable hint of embarrassment.

    I remained silent, watching the exchange between them. Despite the weight of the tension surrounding me, the situation felt¡­ lighter somehow.

    ¡°P¡­¡± Luminus began, as though trying to interject, but he didn¡¯t manage to stop the inevitable.

    ¡°A tooth fairy who gives treasure chests instead of coins,¡± the patriarch continued, turning back to me with a mischievous grin. ¡°That was the response your eldest brother gave when he was your age.¡±

    He spoke so casually, yet with a tone of pride, as if he were sharing a cherished secret. The comparison to the tooth fairy made me smile briefly, unable to suppress the momentary amusement.

    Luminus, still visibly flustered by the patriarch¡¯s remark, glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. It was subtle, but I noticed it. He quickly regained his composure, though, his posture stiffening as if retreating into his usual seriousness. It was as if he were trying to hide the truth¡ªthat this kind of teasing from the patriarch was something he had experienced before. Even so, it was clear he had never fully grown accustomed to it.

    I, on the other hand, felt a touch more at ease¡ªthough I remained cautious. The patriarch¡¯s words weren¡¯t just playful jabs; they were calculated, a kind of test. I was starting to understand that he was probing me, gauging how far I¡¯d go to hold onto my sense of self, my pride, and my identity. He wasn¡¯t looking for a son who would bow easily or respond dishonestly.

    The carriage rocked gently as it continued down the road. The steady rhythm of the horses¡¯ hooves echoed faintly, a constant melody in the background. Reclining in his seat, the patriarch radiated the air of someone fully in control, effortlessly commanding the room without trying. After a moment of silence, he finally broke it.

    ¡°So, Alexander,¡± he began, his voice softer now but still carrying that undeniable weight of authority.

    He crossed his legs, one arm resting on the back of his chair, his piercing gaze fixed on me. ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken, it¡¯s been two months since your tenth birthday.¡±

    I gave a small nod, unsure of where he was leading but careful to maintain my composure.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t yet given you a gift. What would you like?¡±

    For a moment, I didn¡¯t respond. His gaze was so penetrating, it felt as though he was sifting through the deepest corners of my thoughts. My heart raced as I considered his question.

    Countless possibilities ran through my mind¡ªthings that might be useful, things I could need. But none of them felt quite right. My gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, and landed on it: the long-handled axe.

    It hung on a decorative mount just beneath the window. The polished blade reflected the dim light filtering through the curtains, its sheen mesmerizing. Its silver handle, tipped with dark black accents, gleamed faintly, and intricate blue runes shimmered along its length, glowing faintly as if alive. It was a weapon that radiated power, commanding respect at a glance.

    But that wasn¡¯t why I was so drawn to it. There was something else, something strange and intangible. It was as if it were calling to me, pulling me in, my thoughts becoming consumed by its presence.

    Then, as if in a trance, I spoke, my voice unwavering, almost resolute.

    ¡°I want that axe.¡±

 I Want This Axe

    "This axe," I finally said, my voice steady but tinged with a hesitation I couldn¡¯t entirely hide.

    Luminus, seated beside me, turned his head toward me so quickly it almost made a sound. His golden eyes were wide, and for the first time since we¡¯d stepped into the carriage, he looked genuinely surprised.

    "You want the patriarch¡¯s axe?" His voice carried a mix of disbelief and apprehension.

    The patriarch didn¡¯t answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly to the side, the smile on his lips widening as though he¡¯d just heard something exceedingly intriguing. His eyes, once so cold and calculating, now sparkled with something akin to amusement.

    "Interesting," he murmured, as if speaking to himself. "Of all the things you could want... you choose that."

    Still transfixed, my gaze remained locked on the axe. My eyes refused to leave it. Without even looking at the patriarch, I replied,"I don¡¯t know. I just want it."Under normal circumstances, I would have used my skills to assess the item first, wouldn¡¯t have dared to ask for it outright, let alone respond like that. But my mind wasn¡¯t focused on anything other than the axe.

    Luminus reacted instantly, his posture stiffening even further. He looked almost insulted, as though my audacity left no room for understanding.

    "You just want it?" he burst out for the first time, his voice louder than usual, clearly rattled. "How dare you? It¡¯s as if you¡¯re demanding something from the patriarch!"

    I was still completely consumed by the desire to possess the axe, and that gave me a strange, newfound confidence. A wry smile spread across my lips before I could even consider the consequences.

    "I am," I said. "I want that axe for myself."My voice, though childish, carried a firmness that sounded more condescending than I cared to admit. The tone felt strange, but it was the only thing that made sense in the moment.

    Luminus appeared to be at the end of his patience.

    "Are you going to give it to me, then?" I asked, the words slipping out without any thought for the implications. My eyes stayed fixed on the axe, feeling as if it were already an extension of me. My voice was no longer defiant but demanding, as if what I was asking for was the most natural thing in the worldThe narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    For a moment, the patriarch remained silent, observing me with piercing eyes. But then, to my surprise, his face¡ªso solemn and unyielding until now¡ªchanged entirely. A broad smile spread across his lips, and a deep, resonant laugh echoed through the carriage.

    "HAHAHA!" The patriarch laughed, his voice reverberating like a rolling thunder, filled with raw satisfaction. He brought a hand to his face, as if even he was caught off guard by his reaction, and continued laughing for several seconds. "To think that one of my own children would be insane enough to demand my weapon from me."

    Luminus looked stunned, his expression hardened and confused. If I were in his place, I¡¯d feel the same way¡ªafter all, the carriage itself seemed to tremble under the force of the patriarch¡¯s laughter. Even those outside could probably feel the pressure it emitted, a palpable force that accompanied the sound.

    That laughter struck me like a sharp blade, snapping me back to my senses. In that moment, a single, burning question formed in my mind: ''What the hell have I just done?!''

    I glanced quickly at the axe again, feeling an overwhelming need to look at it one more time, but I tore my gaze away almost instantly, afraid of falling into that trance again. My heart raced with insecurity, my chest tightening as I tried to make sense of my actions.

    Why did I want this so badly? Analyzing my behavior, everything felt disproportionate. I had done something¡ªsaid something¡ªthat, under normal circumstances, I would never have dared.

    The patriarch, still wearing a look of amusement, regarded me with a sharp glint in his eyes. "You truly are my child," he said, chuckling once more.

    "But, to my surprise, you¡¯re even crazier than I am." His words carried a strange mix of approval and mockery, spoken with a casualness that seemed to test my perception of reality even further.

    Though his tone was amused, the patriarch¡¯s words pierced through me, leaving a sting in my chest. ''What kind of madness is this? Did I really hear him right?''

    When he spoke again, his voice had taken on a more serious edge. "My answer is no," he declared without hesitation, his tone steeped in unshakable authority.

    "If you want my weapon, then take it from me." His eyes blazed fiercely, and it was clear this wasn¡¯t an empty threat. It was a command, a challenge¡ªa veiled invitation to prove myself.

    ''He¡¯s truly a monster''. The aura radiating from him surged violently, as if trying to swallow me whole, yet it seemed restrained by his own will.

    "But my axe is no ordinary weapon, as you must have already noticed with those eyes of yours," he continued, his voice steady and deliberate.

    There was something in his posture, something in the way he looked at me, that made me feel as if he knew exactly what had just happened. I wanted to question him, but at the same time, I knew he wouldn¡¯t answer.

    A heavy, uncomfortable silence settled between us for a moment. Then, the patriarch spoke again, his voice carrying a mix of gravity and faint amusement, as though he were thoroughly enjoying the moment despite its seriousness.

    "Boy, under normal circumstances, you would face more than just punishment," he said, his gaze piercing and deliberate, as if he were dissecting every fragment of my soul. "But since you¡¯ve given me a good laugh, I¡¯ll spare you. For today."

 The Most Valuable Resource

    I swallowed hard at his response. But the Patriarch continued,

    ¡°Since I cannot grant your first request, I offer you the right to a second. My weapon and Luminus¡¯s are out of the question, unless you¡¯re willing to take the risk.¡± The Patriarch¡¯s voice was a mix of vigor and solemnity.

    ¡°This is your last chance,¡± Luminus added.

    My hands were slightly trembling, but I kept my composure. I took a deep breath and, with the firmest voice I could muster, gave my answer. ¡°I want the Patriarch to owe me a favor.¡±

    The very thought of asking for that seemed bold, but something deep inside told me it was the best choice. This wasn¡¯t a simple or impulsive demand. It was a strategy. I barely understood this world, and even with the knowledge I had, it might not be enough. There was no point in asking for something now; it was better to save this request for a time when I truly needed it.

    Luminus raised an eyebrow, his face clearly puzzled. He couldn¡¯t grasp what I meant.

    ¡°A favor?¡± Luminus murmured, shaking his head in mild disbelief.

    ¡°Hmm...¡± I said, tilting my head slightly, still trying to organize my thoughts.

    ¡°Actually, I think it would be better if I said a specific request. Yes, a request, one that, when the time is right, the Patriarch will grant me a wish.¡±

    These words, spoken now in a calmer tone, seemed more coherent. I wasn¡¯t asking for something immediate or easy. I was asking for the Patriarch to do something for me when the time came.

    ¡°You¡¯re smarter than you look,¡± the Patriarch said with a slight smile, as if he were pleased.

    Luminus, on the other hand, was still completely baffled. He looked at the Patriarch with a perplexed expression. ¡°I don¡¯t understand, Father,¡± he said, the confusion evident in his voice.

    ¡°He could have asked for wealth, elixirs, artifacts, magical weapons, knowledge, or even for you to teach him directly¡­ an endless array of things!¡±

    ¡°Precisely,¡± the Patriarch said after a brief pause. ¡°Because there were so many options, he chose the simplest yet most valuable of them all.¡±

    ¡°Which one?¡± Luminus quickly asked. I could see he didn¡¯t understand my reasoning¡ªsomething the Patriarch, while not fully grasping, at least understood the essence of.

    The Patriarch leaned back into his seat with an unshakable calm. "Time," he said, as if it were the most obvious conclusion. "Time is the most precious gift one can offer. And your little brother knows that."

    Having made his point, the Patriarch let out a sigh and spoke more casually. "To put it simply, he doesn¡¯t know what he wants and has asked for time to think."

    ¡®He read me like a book.¡¯ The Patriarch saw straight through me. He understood perfectly that I hadn¡¯t yet decided what to ask for, and that I had made my request as a way to buy time¡ªtime to figure out what I truly wanted, so I could come back later and claim my "gift."

    "As a man of my word, I accept your request," the Patriarch declared, his voice solemn. "But be careful. Don¡¯t think to use this as an excuse to try to claim my axe." His eyes flared with an intense, fiery menace, like a flickering flame threatening to consume everything in its path.

    Cold sweat broke out on my skin as his words sank in. This was a man who did not go back on his word; if he said he would do something, he would see it through.

    ¡®The Dracknum family is far more terrifying than they seem.¡¯

    <hr>

    Fifteen days had passed since we left the capital of Allyth¨¦on, Aethera. Our journey had already taken us through a variety of regions, each more fascinating and mysterious than the last. Now, deep in the Dracknum State, the capital of the Archduchy was still several days away, but the journey was nearing its end.

    The pace of travel was extraordinary, unbound by the usual limitations. Under normal circumstances, this same journey would have taken around four weeks, but the Dracknum family was far from ordinary.

    The horses pulling our carriages were hybrids¡ªwar beasts infused with demonic traits. Their massive, muscular frames struck the ground with thunderous force, their stamina and speed so remarkable that we only stopped for human rest. This allowed us to progress far faster than I had imagined.

    ¡®We¡¯re almost there,¡¯ I thought, watching the landscape stretch out before me. Still as breathtaking as ever, it had become familiar over time. Each passing kilometer weighed heavier on my body, and although the journey¡¯s end was in sight, my anxiety grew with every day.

    Over the last fifteen days, I had grown accustomed to acting as Alexander. Each new dawn plunged me deeper into his mind and habits, as fragments of his memories and knowledge surfaced more frequently. It wasn¡¯t easy to maintain the demeanor of a high noble, but gradually, it began to feel more natural. Every new sight or conversation triggered another puzzle piece to fall into place. Leopold had not lied when he said the process was far from complete.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    But without a doubt, the greatest challenge was sharing the same carriage with the Patriarch and Luminus. Their constant vigilance created an almost tangible tension. The Patriarch, with his overwhelming presence, and Luminus, who always seemed to calculate everyone¡¯s every move, made any attempt at relaxation or lightheartedness nearly impossible.

    Vanessa, on the other hand, had avoided any contact with me since the beginning. Alexander and Vanessa had never had a good relationship. Vanessa¡¯s mother despised Alexander¡¯s mother and made sure to instill that resentment in her daughter. Vanessa maintained a calculated distance, and her words, when directed at me, were brief and formal. Of course, this courtesy was only in the Patriarch''s presence; under normal circumstances, she wouldn¡¯t hesitate to openly criticize and mock me.

    Oddly enough, my moments of peace came only at night, when the caravan was blanketed in silence. It was then, and only then, that I could truly rest, even if just for a few fleeting hours.

    During the day, the servants, guards, and even Albert seemed to always be watching. And then there was C¨¦sar, who appeared regularly¡ªeither to tease Luminus or to strike up conversations with me and the Patriarch. His jokes were often lackluster, but I had to admit his stories were captivating.

    Despite the tension, I managed to establish some semblance of a routine. The Patriarch allowed me to read, something I was immensely grateful for¡ªnot just as a way to pass the time, but also because Alexander, in his essence, had been an avid reader. Going too long without a book would have felt unnatural.

    The words on the pages became an escape from the relentless pressure hanging over me. I lost myself in the stories, lessons, and teachings within those texts. They were, in some ways, the only moments where I could truly feel like myself¡ªthe only times when it felt as though Alexander and I had always been the same person.

    I glanced out the carriage window again. The view was striking: vast green plains that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. We passed small villages and distant towns, their silhouettes etched against the landscape. Workers gathered to watch the caravan roll by, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and reverence. A part of me felt content in the face of such boundless scenery.

    The sun was beginning to set when I finally set my book aside and leaned back, the gentle rocking of the carriage granting me a rare moment of tranquility. I turned my gaze once more to the window, watching the warm hues of the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and pink, blending seamlessly into the horizon.

    The countryside stretched out endlessly, with fields of grapes and golden grains swaying gently in the breeze. The distant sound of trotting horses mixed with the soft creaking of the carriage¡¯s wooden frame. It was a tranquil scene, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts still churning in my mind. But, for a fleeting moment, I managed to set my worries aside and simply... breathe.

    A faint crack, followed by the subtle shift of the carriage¡¯s movement, broke my focus. The carriage came to an abrupt halt, and before I could ask what was happening, an unsettling feeling crawled down my spine¡ªan instinctive sense that something was about to change. A bad premonition.

    Luminus opened the carriage door with a fluid motion. His tall, commanding figure stood silhouetted in the amber light of the setting sun as he stepped onto the footrest. The soft breeze ruffled his silver hair, and his gaze locked onto something in the distance before he finally spoke.

    "Very well. From here, we part ways," he said, his voice steady and resolute. His words seemed to drop into the surrounding silence like stones into still water.

    The tension thickened as he continued. "C¨¦sar, you will go with the others to the state capital," Luminus instructed, gesturing toward the road ahead. His voice carried its usual clarity and authority.

    "I will accompany the Patriarch, and we will Accompany Alexander." He paused briefly, his piercing eyes turning to me with an intensity that sent a wave of unease through my chest.

    ¡®Wait,¡¯ I thought to myself. ¡®Accompany me where?¡¯ The question burned in my mind, but I knew there was no room to voice it. Whatever this was, my path had already been decided.

    C¨¦sar, who appeared unsurprised by the announcement, let out a sigh¡ªequal parts resignation and his usual dry humor.

    "What a shame I won¡¯t be going with you," he said, his tone light and tinged with playful sarcasm as he dismounted the carriage he had been riding in. "Too bad I have a duty to fulfill."

    He turned slightly, mounting a horse with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior. The beast, with its fiery eyes and imposing stature, seemed a fitting match for its rider. C¨¦sar and the other horsemen began positioning themselves at the front of the caravan, the vanguard forming in an orderly line.

    I was still trying to make sense of the situation when C¨¦sar rode past the window of my carriage. His eyes met mine for the briefest of moments, and then, with the faintest curve of his lips into a knowing smile, he mouthed a silent phrase.

    "Good luck," he said without a sound.

    In the next moment, C¨¦sar moved away, already taking his position on horseback as the caravan led by him surged forward. The other riders, servants, and carriages followed, leaving us behind. A strange sensation of unease settled over me, creeping in with a weight I couldn¡¯t shake.

    Chills ran down my spine, and for a brief moment, I found myself frozen, caught by the overwhelming sense that something monumental was drawing near.

    The carriage I was in now took a different path, veering onto a route that led into more mountainous and secluded terrain. The once gentle and open landscapes transformed into something far more imposing¡ªtowering rock formations and dense forests flanking the road. Even the atmosphere shifted. The air grew cooler, the vegetation thicker, and an oppressive silence seemed to hang over us, broken only by the rhythmic creaking of the carriage wheels.

    On one side of the road, massive stones began to appear, etched with symbols and runes that glowed faintly under the fading light. They were unmistakable markers of the Dracknum family¡¯s domain.

    ¡°We¡¯ve arrived,¡± the Patriarch¡¯s deep voice broke the silence. His eyes, which had been closed moments before, now opened, and a faint smile played on his lips.

    As I caught sight of his expression, one single word echoed in my mind¡ªone that countless scholars had likely used before me.

    ¡®Shit.¡¯

 Family Tradition

    The carriage came to a gentle stop, its wheels clicking softly against the damp earth of the road. The night stretched out before me like a dark, silent canvas, where the shadows of trees intertwined and the leaves whispered with the wind. I could barely make out the shapes moving around me, but there was something unsettling in the air¡ªa presence that made me feel more like an intruder than a member of the family.

    Luminus stood before me, his tall and imposing figure outlined against the backdrop of darkness. He opened the carriage door with an almost ritualistic ease, and his voice pierced through the stillness of the night: "Come, Alexander."

    I hesitated for a moment, the weight of his words settling in my chest. He seemed so calm, so... indifferent to what was coming. Yet I couldn¡¯t ignore the growing fear within me.

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, though the unease in my voice was unmistakable. Glancing outside, I was met with the sight of a dense forest dominating the landscape. Its towering, shadowy trees formed a thick canopy that seemed to swallow the entire carriage.

    ¡°We are where you will face the Hunters'' Judgment,¡± Luminus replied, his voice low but firm, as if he were speaking of something entirely routine.

    ¡®The Hunters'' Judgment¡¯. Those words echoed in my mind, and immediately, all of Alexander¡¯s memories came rushing to the surface.

    The Hunters'' Judgment was an ancient tradition of the Dracknum family, something every direct descendant¡ªand even those of the second lineage¡ªwere required to endure. It was a rite of passage, a test that probed the very essence of those who bore the family name. Yet the details of what transpired during the judgment were shrouded in secrecy.

    No one was allowed to speak of what happened out there, and any attempt to share the experience was met with severe consequences. The only person who truly knew the fate of each participant was the patriarch of the family.

    ¡®Of course it had to be now,¡¯ I thought, cold sweat dripping down my forehead as tension tightened its grip on every fiber of my being.

    I didn¡¯t know exactly what to expect, but the stories Alexander had heard from other family members were anything but reassuring. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for descendants to fail the judgment. Some never returned, and no one ever learned what became of them.

    ¡®If they ever found my body, that would be a blessing.¡¯ That thought, above all others, made me swallow hard.

    Luminus watched me as my mind spiraled. He knew exactly what I was feeling but said nothing. His expression remained impassive, as indifferent as ever, yet for some reason, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was studying me, assessing me in ways I couldn¡¯t understand.

    Before I could recover from the initial shock, he motioned for me to follow him.

    ¡®There is no turning back.¡¯ I thought while clenching my hands.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    As we moved forward, my eyes were drawn to the forest around us. The towering trees, their dark trunks looming like silent sentinels, seemed to watch our every step. Their roots snaked across the ground as if ready to rise up and ensnare us at any moment. The sound of my footsteps was muffled by the dense vegetation, and a suffocating sense of claustrophobia began to settle over me. The shadows around us felt alive, shifting and writhing as though waiting for us to falter¡ªfor me to falter.

    The air felt heavy, almost alive, thrumming with an oppressive energy that pressed down on me. It wasn¡¯t just the darkness of the night that surrounded the small clearing ahead; it was something more, something primal, that sent chills racing across my skin and made every instinct in me scream to turn and run.

    When we reached the clearing, my turbulent thoughts were interrupted by the deep voice of the family patriarch.

    "Alexander Wolfgang The Dracknum," he called, his voice reverberating through the trees, filling the space with a power that felt larger than him, as though the forest itself were listening. "Are you ready for the Hunters'' Judgment?"

    My feet planted themselves firmly on the ground, but my mind wavered. I was anything but ready. Every muscle in my body felt stretched taut, like a rope pulled to the brink of snapping.

    ¡®Of course not,¡¯ I thought, though my lips stayed sealed. My chest rose and fell in slow, deliberate breaths as I fought to keep the growing panic at bay. The worst kind of fear wasn¡¯t fear of something tangible; it was fear of the unknown. And here I was, about to face something even Alexander¡¯s memories couldn¡¯t illuminate.

    Luminus stood just a few steps away, his presence solid and almost reassuring. Yet the cold indifference in his expression made it clear that he had no intention of helping me. He gave me one last look before stepping back, leaving me with words that hung in the air like a grim verdict.

    The rules are simple. Survive, or become part of what resides in this forest.

    I swallowed hard, my hands trembling slightly. "How will I know when the trial is over?" I asked, clinging to the desperate hope of finding some clarity in this absurdly vague ordeal.

    "Simple," Luminus replied, his voice distant now, though still heavy with authority. "When you reach the other side, you¡¯ll find the family crest marked on a tree. In front of it, there will be a golden lever. Pull it, and the trial will be over."

    ''The other side?'' I thought, my stomach sinking. ''I have to cross a fucking demonic forest?!''

    As if he could hear my thoughts, the patriarch spoke, his voice sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

    ¡°We stand at the edge of the Black Forest, the border between Dracknum lands and the Demonic Forest. Do not cross into the Demonic Forest, even if there is a barrier meant to stop you. There are... exceptions to every rule.¡±

    His words offered me a brief, fragile sense of relief. The Black Forest, while terrifying and oppressive, was still part of the Dracknum domain¡ªsomething understandable, something that operated within the boundaries of the family¡¯s influence.

    The Demonic Forest, however, was something entirely different. To most, it was a living myth, a place of nightmares. Few who ventured into it ever returned, and those who did were forever changed. Resilient, perhaps, but scarred in ways that even time could not heal.

    Still, the relief was fleeting. The gravity of the situation quickly clawed its way back into my mind.

    "Where are the basic survival tools for the trial?" I asked, my voice cracking with a desperation I hadn¡¯t intended to show. "Shouldn¡¯t there at least be some kind of survival kit?"

    ¡°Simple,¡± Luminus answered dryly, not even bothering to look at me. ¡°The survival kit... is you.¡±

    Each word felt heavier than the last, as though etched in stone and hurled at me. The weight of it all hit me like a hammer. ¡®Survive.¡¯ That was it. But what did that truly mean? What was I about to face?

 The Hunters Judgment

    "How so?" I asked, incredulous.

    "You¡¯re a Dracknum, aren¡¯t you? Prove that you deserve the name you bear," the patriarch¡¯s deep voice cut through the air like a blade, heavy with expectation and solemnity.

    I swallowed hard. In that moment, it felt as though every memory I had of the Dracknum family suddenly took on a new meaning. I understood what he meant, but that didn¡¯t make the situation any less absurd.

    I looked around, feeling the weight of solitude wrap around me like a cold cloak. The patriarch and Luminus were already walking away, their figures swallowed by the dense shadows of the forest. There was no one else. Just me and the trees, which seemed to have eyes.

    The wind blew, carrying with it a faint whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. The sound of creaking branches swaying in the wind felt like muffled laughter, as if something hidden in the darkness was mocking me. The shadows seemed to move¡ªor maybe it was just my imagination.

    ¡®And to think I was starting to believe they weren¡¯t that strange¡¯, I thought, trying to keep my composure.

    "What kind of family abandons their ten-year-old descendants in a dangerous forest without a single item or weapon to defend themselves?" I shouted into the void, my voice echoing among the trees, a mix of anger and helplessness.

    ¡®Leopold, what kind of lunatic family have you dragged me into?¡¯ I asked myself, almost as if I could hear his distant laugh.

    The Dracknum family, as the memories had shown me, wasn¡¯t just a noble lineage; they were hunters in the truest sense of the word. It didn¡¯t matter if the target was monsters, demons, or men. Their descendants were forged to survive in a world where brute strength and cunning were often the only things standing between life and death. They were born warriors, cartographers, and adventurers¡ªthere was nothing they couldn¡¯t do, so long as it involved the hunt.

    It made sense. They lived on the edge of the Demonic Forest and had to deal, from time to time, with hordes spilling out from that endless darkness. This trial, brutal as it was, was an integral part of their legacy.

    I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. My chest rose and fell quickly, but I forced myself to steady my breathing.

    ¡®It¡¯s just a forest¡¯, I tried to convince myself. But even in my mind, the words rang hollow.

    I knew it wasn¡¯t just a forest. It was a battlefield. A test. A trial that had claimed the lives of many before me.

    The trees around me loomed like black towers, their twisted branches clawing at the sky, blocking out any light that might escape the night¡¯s suffocating darkness. The ground beneath my feet was slick with damp leaves, and every step I took sent the sharp crack of breaking twigs reverberating through the oppressive silence, like screams in the void.

    I drew a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging in my mind. My eyes scanned the darkness around me, but everything looked the same: impenetrable shadows, gnarled trees, and a trail that split and dissolved into the shroud of the forest. Indecision was as dangerous an enemy as any predator lurking in these woods.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Instinctively, my hands reached for the ring on my index finger. ¡®Could this help me?¡¯ I wondered, clutching the small object with a glimmer of hope that it might offer me some advantage. But as soon as I tried to activate its functionality, something strange happened. The familiar glow I expected in my mind didn¡¯t appear.

    ¡®Appraisal function is locked.¡¯ A chill ran down my spine, and a cold knot of dread formed in my stomach.

    ¡®Leopold¡­ that old man is as crazy as the rest of them¡¯, I cursed silently, frustration and helplessness swirling together like a storm.

    Then, as if he¡¯d been waiting for the perfect moment to make his presence known, a message beamed directly into my mind from the ring. Leopold¡¯s voice was calm, almost amused:

    "It would be far too unfair for you to have the Appraisal function on this journey. This trial is yours and yours alone. Best of luck. Your dear summoner, Leopold Stargazer."

    The message vanished, but its weight lingered. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to process the situation.

    ¡®That old man¡­¡¯ I muttered under my breath, suppressing the urge to scream. There was nothing else to do but move forward.

    The first step was the hardest. My legs felt like lead, and every movement was labored, as if the forest itself conspired to hold me back. But I knew that standing still would only make things worse.

    With each step, the sense of being watched grew stronger. The forest felt alive¡ªnot in the tranquil, natural sense, but in an oppressive, suffocating way. It was as though the woods were breathing, and though I couldn¡¯t see anything watching me, I could feel unseen eyes locked onto me, unblinking and relentless.

    A sound broke through the silence¡ªa faint rustling of leaves coming from a place untouched by the wind. My muscles tensed, and my gaze snapped in the direction of the noise. The silence that followed was even more suffocating, as if the forest was waiting, testing me, watching how I would react.

    ¡®Alright, I thought, pushing down the rising tide of panic. ¡®First, I need a strategy.¡¯

    Alexander''s memories began to resurface, like a slow tide carrying fragments of books and lessons about tracking and survival. The calm, and excited voice of Alexander reading a certain book echoed in my mind: ¡°Observe your surroundings. They¡¯ll always tell you more than you expect. Find patterns, but always prepare for chaos.¡±

    I looked around, trying to absorb every detail. The trees, with their twisted branches like claws, had partially exposed roots¡ªpotential traps or hiding places for something far more dangerous. The ground, covered in slick, damp leaves, made every step a gamble, each one capable of betraying me with a sudden slip or sound.

    ¡®If I don¡¯t have weapons, I¡¯ll have to improvise¡¯, I thought, scanning for anything that could give me an edge. My eyes landed on a sturdy branch wedged between two rocks. It took some effort, but I managed to pry it free. Its ends were jagged and uneven, sharp enough to pass for an improvised weapon.

    Every sound around me felt magnified by the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The faint rustling of leaves, the distant crack of a breaking branch, even the sound of my own breathing¡ªeverything seemed threatening, as if the forest itself was alive and watching me.

    I stared down at the branch in my hands, turning it over in my fingers. It was sturdy and sharp in places, but ultimately, it was just a stick¡ªan aspiring weapon at best. My frown deepened as I analyzed my makeshift choice. Even with adrenaline spurring me on, I couldn¡¯t shake the doubt that it would make any real difference against a beast, or worse, something lurking in this forest.

    It¡¯s not enough, I thought, exhaling slowly to keep the rising panic at bay. I gripped the branch more tightly and held it up to my chest, as if that act alone could imbue it with more utility. ¡°I¡¯ll definitely need something better.¡±

    ¡®Alright¡¯, I thought, forcing myself to focus. ¡®It¡¯s time to learn my second magic.¡¯

 The Hunters Judgment (2)

    ¡°It¡¯s time to learn my second spell.¡±

    I focused, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. The first spell I had used, ¨C- Breeze ¡ª , had been instinctive¡ªsomething simple, yet it had still required concentration. I needed to replicate that now, but with something more offensive, something that would at least give me a chance to survive.

    ¡°Feel the mana particles around you,¡± I recalled from the instructions.

    I crouched down, pressing my fingers against the ground, letting the cold, damp earth mold itself to my palm.

    Closing my eyes, I focused, trying to sense the energy around me. The mana particles flowed invisibly through the air, the leaves, and the soil. It was like trying to sense a subtle breeze in the middle of a hurricane of thoughts.

    ¡®This time, I need something simple, but effective enough to make a difference,¡¯ I thought, rummaging through the fragments of knowledge flickering in my mind. The ring¡¯s functions began to respond to my silent command.

    An interface appeared, presenting a list of basic spells. The evaluation feature was still locked, but the other functions remained active¡ªa glimmer of light in the darkness.

    I searched through the available spells until I found something that seemed fitting: Earth Element: Harden.

    ¡®Simple, efficient, and exactly what I need,¡¯ I thought, weighing its potential. It was a reinforcement spell, perfect for transforming a useless branch into a viable tool. The ring provided the instructions directly into my mind. The process seemed clear, but executing it would demand focus.

    I stood up, gripping the branch as if it were already a true weapon. Closing my eyes again, I visualized the energy around me, channeling it into the branch. My hands were steady, but a part of me still trembled¡ªwhether from anxiety or the mounting tension, I wasn¡¯t sure. The wind blew, carrying dry leaves that danced around me like silent witnesses.

    ¡°Move the mana,¡± I murmured to myself, trying to guide the flow. I concentrated on the ground, on the steady, heavy energy emanating from it. I felt something connect, like an electric current running through my body and into the branch.

    ¡ª ¡°Harden!¡±¡ª

    The command left my lips as a whisper, but it carried the full weight of my intent. The branch glimmered faintly for a moment, its surface darkening and solidifying as the spell took hold.

    I raised it in front of my face, testing its weight. It was surprisingly sturdier, heavier¡ªalmost as if it had turned into a crude yet functional weapon. A relieved smile spread across my face.

    ¡®Finally¡¯, I thought, spinning the branch to test its balance. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was something¡ªsomething that could mean the difference between life and death.

    I looked around again. The forest seemed quieter, as if it was watching me. The shadows shifted with the breeze, but my heart no longer raced as it had before. The improvised weapon in my hands brought a small sense of comfort¡ªa reminder that I wasn¡¯t completely defenseless.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°All right,¡± I whispered to myself, fixing my eyes on the path ahead. ¡°If this is how it¡¯s going to be, then so be it.¡±

    With the hardened branch in hand and a renewed sense of determination in my chest, I took the first step deeper into the forest, plunging further into the hunters¡¯ trial.

    ¡°First, I need to find a place to spend the night and look for food,¡± I muttered, moving cautiously through the dense woods.

    <hr>

    The forest¡¯s darkness was punctuated only by the faint glow of the moon, struggling to pierce through the dense canopy above. The air was thick with the smell of damp wood and decaying vegetation. Every distant sound¡ªthe rustling of leaves, a branch snapping far away¡ªseemed amplified in the vast stillness of the night.

    As I walked, weariness began to set into my muscles, each step demanding more effort than the last. So far, aside from small insects, I hadn¡¯t encountered any animals, beasts, or monsters.

    At last, I reached a more rugged area where the ground sloped upward slightly. Here, the trees were spaced farther apart, and I could see rocky formations that might offer some semblance of shelter. Even so, none of it seemed safe enough.

    ¡®I must have been wandering aimlessly for hours¡¯, I thought, frustrated. Leaning against a tree, I took a deep breath, my chest heaving. Sweat trickled down my forehead, and the cold night air began to gnaw at my skin.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t even bother to tell me where in the forest we are or which direction I¡¯m supposed to go,¡± I muttered, irritation bubbling inside me. I had no idea how much longer I¡¯d need to stay in this forest or where to find the elusive crest I was supposed to retrieve.

    At that moment, my stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder of my growing exhaustion. I hadn¡¯t eaten anything since late afternoon.

    ¡®What a terrible hunger,¡¯ I thought, clutching my stomach with one hand. ¡®But where am I supposed to find food in this place?¡¯

    Hunger was clouding my thoughts. I leaned against the tree for a few minutes, trying to regain some strength. The accumulated exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I knew staying still would only increase my chances of starving or being caught off guard by something lurking in the forest.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I whispered to myself, forcing my body to move. Each step felt harder than the last, but I pressed on.

    After a while¡ªor maybe it was sheer luck¡ªI spotted something that caught my attention: low bushes with oval leaves, their edges soft and rounded. Small white flowers with deep red anthers adorned them, and nestled among the blooms were pale, nearly whitish fruits. My eyes widened as recognition struck: pale mulberries.

    ¡®Morus albiflorum¡¯, the scientific name surfaced in my mind, drawn from Alexander¡¯s memories. These fruits, known for their delicate pale hue, were native to the Black Forest.

    They were used in various elixirs, potions, and even some flavorful recipes, but most importantly¡ªthey were edible and nutritious enough to sustain someone for a while.

    I crouched down quickly, examining the berries to ensure they weren¡¯t spoiled or contaminated. The plant appeared healthy, and the fruits were ripe, their texture firm and juicy.

    ¡®Finally, some good fortune!¡¯ I thought, as my hunger and exhaustion gave way to momentary relief.

    I picked a few berries and ate them hastily, their mild, slightly sweet flavor filling my mouth. They weren¡¯t particularly delicious, but at that moment, they were the best meal I could imagine.

    As I chewed, I scanned my surroundings, eyes sharp for the slightest movement. Though relieved to find food, I couldn¡¯t afford to let my guard down. The forest was no place to relax.

    ¡®I need to find shelter soon¡¯, I thought, gathering more berries and wrapping them in my blazer, improvising a makeshift sack.

    With my stomach slightly fuller and my mind somewhat clearer, I refocused on the trail ahead. Finding a safe place to spend the night was now even more urgent.

    The forest seemed to mock me, with shadows that shifted and sounds I could never quite identify. But, at least for now, I had a little energy to keep going.

 Shelter

    With a stomach that was relatively full, I kept walking for what felt like an eternity. The forest seemed endless, filled with towering trees and shadows that shifted subtly under the moonlight. But then, something different in the distance caught my eye: the entrance to a cave, partially concealed by thick vines and moss.

    "Finally, shelter," I thought, a relieved smile breaking across my exhausted face.

    I approached cautiously, taking in every detail. The cave''s entrance was narrow but appeared to widen further in. Running my hand over the moss-covered wall, the damp texture confirmed my suspicion: this place hadn''t been used in a while, which might be a good sign. Even so, the darkness deeper inside was almost suffocating, like a shroud concealing unwanted secrets.

    I decided it would be foolish to venture too far. Surprises were the last thing I needed in the middle of the night. Instead, I sat near the entrance, leaning against the damp, rocky wall. It was uncomfortable, but still better than being exposed out in the forest.

    "One day, I¡¯m sleeping in a dreamlike bed," I thought, chuckling softly to myself. "And the next, I¡¯m camping in a cave."

    I glanced at the blazer that now served as a makeshift pouch for the berries I¡¯d collected. "At least I managed to find some food," I muttered, trying to focus on the silver lining. The pale berries still glimmered faintly in the moonlight, though I knew they wouldn¡¯t be enough to sustain me for long.

    "They won¡¯t last," I sighed, running my fingers through my messy hair. "Tomorrow, I¡¯ll need to try hunting something small... if I can."

    My gaze shifted to the ring on my index finger, the artifact now a constant, silent companion. Its dark surface, etched with golden patterns, reflected the faint light. I activated it, diving into the familiar mental interface.

    "I need to learn more spells," I whispered, determination building within me. Even basic spells would be better than nothing. The level-0 elemental spells were especially useful for someone like me¡ªthey didn¡¯t require channeling mana from my body, only residual energy from the environment.

    The problem, however, was obvious: channeling mana would still take practice and patience, not to mention it left me vulnerable while I stood still and focused. "I need to learn how to channel mana on the move," I murmured, furrowing my brow. It was a skill I would need to master if I had any hope of surviving.

    I spent what felt like hours exploring my mental library, absorbing fragments of knowledge about spells that could prove useful in my current situation. After much trial and error, I finally managed to learn three basic spells that could make a difference:

    ¡ª Flame ¡ª  A fire spell that produced a small flame. It was weak, barely capable of burning anything substantial, but it could be used to light a campfire or illuminate my path, and depending on how I use it, I could start a small fire, after all, fire is still fire.

    ¡ª Charge ¡ª  From the thunder element, this spell emitted a minimal electrical discharge. Originally designed to relax tense muscles, I realized it could be adapted to mildly paralyze small creatures like rabbits or foxes if I increased its intensity slightly.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡ª Droplet ¡ª  A water-element spell that gathered mana particles to form a small sphere of liquid. While simple, it could temporarily quench my thirst. This was the hardest to master due to my only intermediate affinity with the water element, requiring all of my focus.

    The learning process was exhausting. ¡ª Droplet ¡ª , in particular, left my mind throbbing from the effort. When I finally managed to form a shimmering sphere of water between my fingers, I sighed in relief and brought it to my lips, feeling the cool liquid trickle down my throat.

    Satisfied but mentally drained, I felt my eyelids grow heavy. Leaning against the cave wall, I allowed sleep to take over. The forest seemed quieter now, as if it were waiting for me to lower my guard.

    ¡®Tomorrow,¡¯ I thought before slipping away into slumber, ¡®is another day¡­¡¯

    <hr>

    The wind still danced softly through the cave¡¯s entrance, carrying the faint sounds of morning with it. My body woke slowly, stiff from the cold, hard ground beneath me. Sunlight filtered through the cave¡¯s opening, revealing dust particles suspended in the air, lazily swirling to the gentle rhythm of birdsong.

    My eyes opened reluctantly, blinking several times to adjust to the light streaming through the treetops.

    ¡®Morning already,¡¯ I thought, trying to organize the jumble of thoughts left by my restless night. One hand rested on my forehead, serving as a makeshift visor to block the direct sunlight that spilled into the cave.

    Rising to my feet, the first thing I did was approach the cave¡¯s entrance. The view waiting for me was surprisingly pleasant, more so than I had anticipated. The sun''s rays filtered gently through the high leaves, creating intricate patterns of light on the forest floor. For a moment, the black forest seemed less threatening. It felt as if the previous night had been nothing more than a bad dream, and this tranquil scene was its peaceful counterpart.

    ¡®Now that I think about it, the forest isn¡¯t all that black,¡¯ I reflected, taking in the understated beauty around me. Perhaps the name had more to do with the stories surrounding it than its actual appearance. From my elevated position, sunlight was plentiful, bathing the scene in a golden glow.

    I took a deep breath, the fresh, damp air filling my lungs. The earthy scent of soil and vegetation was strong but not unpleasant.

    Glancing up, I searched for the sun¡¯s position in the sky. It was a massive, radiant star, now sitting directly overhead.

    ¡®Must be midday,¡¯ I thought, estimating the time.

    My stomach interrupted with a loud growl, pulling me back to reality.

    "Time for breakfast," I muttered with a sigh, reaching for my makeshift *blazer-bag* filled with berries. Handling it carefully, I sat at the cave¡¯s entrance, where the sunlight warmed my skin.

    The pale berries glimmered in the sunlight, their pearly hues standing out against the green backdrop. I picked one up between my fingers, examining it as if contemplating its very existence.

    ¡®They¡¯re not exactly a full meal, but at least they taste decent,¡¯ I thought, recalling the faintly sweet and tart flavor from the previous night.

    Popping the first berry into my mouth, I bit down gently, and its subtle flavor spread over my tongue, accompanied by a refreshing coolness that helped dispel some lingering fatigue. One after another, I ate them slowly, savoring each bite while taking in the forest around me.

    There was something oddly comforting about the moment. The chirping of birds, the gentle rustling of leaves, and even the occasional crack of a distant branch formed a natural symphony that kept me alert yet somehow at peace.

    The blazer-bag now hung empty by my side.

    ''This won¡¯t be enough,'' I thought, eyeing the fabric now stained with the remnants of berries that had once seemed so promising. The weight of exhaustion began to settle over me once more, but it was then that something caught my attention.

 Hunt

    I noticed a sudden movement in the bushes. I stopped immediately, my body tense, every muscle ready to react.

    ¡®What was that?¡¯ I thought, my eyes locked on the spot where the sound had come from. For a few seconds, nothing happened. The forest¡¯s silence was almost absolute, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the sound of my own breathing. Then, another movement. This time, I saw it clearly.

    Rabbits.

    But these weren¡¯t ordinary rabbits. Their fur was an immaculate, almost supernatural white, and their eyes glowed an intense, piercing red.

    ¡®The hunt begins now¡¯, I thought, a mixture of adrenaline and caution taking hold of me. This wasn¡¯t a choice¡ªit was a necessity. I knew that without protein or something more substantial than berries, my body wouldn¡¯t last much longer.

    I grabbed the hardened branch I had enchanted the night before. It felt more useful now than it had when I first held it. An improvised weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. I gripped it firmly, feeling its weight in my hand as I moved carefully toward the bushes.

    The wind blew again, carrying a damp, earthy scent mixed with something metallic I couldn¡¯t quite place. Perhaps it was the forest itself, or maybe something more.

    My senses were on full alert¡ªevery sound, every movement around me seemed amplified, echoing in the back of my mind like a constant warning.

    I approached slowly, each step calculated so as not to startle the rabbits. My breathing was low and controlled, but my heart pounded like a drum. The rabbits remained there, moving casually among the bushes, oblivious to my presence.

    ¡®Alright,¡¯ I thought, leaning forward, the tip of the branch aimed in their direction. ¡®Time to see how far I can go.¡¯

    Suddenly, one of the rabbits lifted its head, its red eyes locking onto me. My body froze for a moment. It knew I was there.

    Before I could think of my next move, the rabbit leapt backward, moving with astonishing speed. Its sudden movement triggered a chain reaction: the other rabbits, now aware of my presence, began to scatter, their small, agile bodies vanishing into the bushes.

    ¡®Damn!¡¯ I thought, my mind racing. I couldn¡¯t let them all escape¡ªat least not all of them. The others were already darting away, but one was still within my reach.

    Without hesitation, I focused my energy on one of the spells I had only recently learned.

    ¡ª "Charge!" ¡ª I shouted, channeling the element of thunder through my fingers. I felt the tension in the air as I struggled to control the flow of mana, the electricity beginning to take shape. At first, I sensed the magic forming, but it took longer than I wanted. The air around me seemed heavy, as if nature itself was reluctant to let me wield the power of thunder.

    Finally, the lightning bolt shot out, striking the ground near the rabbit. It stumbled, its leg muscles faltering for a second as if pulled in the opposite direction. But the magic wasn¡¯t fast enough to stop it completely.

    ¡®I was too slow.¡¯ The scarcity of thunder elemental energy in the environment, combined with my inexperience with magic, made the casting slower than it needed to be.That was one of the drawbacks of basic elemental magic¡ªits strength, speed, and casting time were too dependent on the residual mana in the surroundings.

    Frustration flooded my mind, but there was no time to dwell on it. I had to act.

    Fortunately, not all was in vain¡ªthe rabbit had stumbled, its movements slowing for just a second, and that was all the time I needed. With the branch gripped tightly in my hand, I lunged forward, putting all my strength into the strike.

    Even so, the rabbit, despite being affected by the magic, managed to narrowly evade me, the branch grazing its leg.

    Staggered and injured, it managed to run a few more meters, its agile body zigzagging between the trees in desperation.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!¡®Damn it. I¡¯d better pick up the pace.¡¯

    With the branch now firmly in my grip, I pushed forward. Each step made the dry leaves and soil crackle under my feet, but the sound of the chase felt irrelevant compared to the thunderous rhythm of my heart. I was sprinting after the rabbit with everything I had. The advantage was mine¡ªit was wounded, and its movements were clearly slowing.

    The trees began to grow denser as I ran, their thick trunks blocking out the sunlight and plunging the forest into deeper shadows. The scent of damp earth and dense vegetation mixed with the metallic tang of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Every step brought me closer, but the rabbit was just as determined to escape.

    I saw its silhouette ahead, its faltering movements a clear sign of its exhaustion. Still, it pushed on, trying to get away from me. My breath was heavy but controlled, and I stayed close behind. I was so near I could almost reach its tail, but then, with one final desperate leap, the rabbit widened the gap between us.

    Victory felt close, just a few meters away, my entire body thrumming with the thrill of the hunt.

    ¡°Damn it,¡± I muttered, gripping the branch even tighter.

    ¡°You won¡¯t even see yourself becoming my lunch.¡± The branch was raised high, the anticipation of success burning in my mind. The sounds of the forest faded into the background. All that remained was me and my prey.

    Or so I thought.

    <hr>

    As I continued to chase the rabbit, it became clear that at this pace, I¡¯d tire out before it did. Worse, I was straying too far from the cave. My mind, flooded with adrenaline, drove me to make a risky decision.

    ¡ª ¡°Breeze!¡± ¡ª I shouted, pouring every ounce of concentration I could spare while keeping my eyes locked on the rabbit. I channeled the wind element, activating the first basic-level spell I¡¯d ever learned.

    I focused the magic on my legs. All I needed was one burst of speed¡ªjust enough to close the gap and claim my prize.

    The wind magic surged with far more force than I anticipated, propelling my body forward with an almost supernatural velocity. The hardened branch rose with precision, and I knew the strike would be true.

    The hunt was about to end. The rabbit was exhausted, and I was just a step away from my prize. Victory was within my grasp.

    But in the forests of Dracknum, fate is rarely so simple.

    Just as I soared through the air, poised to strike, something changed. A blur of movement, rapid and sudden, came from my left. Before I could fully process it, a wolf pup¡ªseemingly emerging from the shadows¡ªcollided violently with the rabbit.

    ¡®What the hell¡ª?¡¯

    I barely had time to register what was happening before the situation took an even more unexpected turn.

    From the direction the wolf had come, a massive shadow loomed, and a hulking figure emerged from the dense forest. A colossal bear, it''s dark fur bristling and its teeth bared, stepped into the clearing. Its eyes glinted with a primal, predatory fury.

    The wolf and the rabbit tumbled into a tree, both stunned by the collision, but the bear wasted no time. With a thunderous roar that shook the ground beneath me, it charged. The air grew heavy, and the oppressive weight of its presence seemed to suffocate everything around it.

    And there I was, still midair, speeding toward the chaos with no way to change course.

    The impact was brutal.

    The bear¡¯s massive paw struck me with the force of a falling boulder. The sound of the collision was deafening, and pain erupted through my entire body. I was sent flying to the side, like a leaf caught in a violent gust of wind. My stomach lurched into my throat, and all the air was forced from my lungs in a strangled, silent cry.

    My body slammed against the trunk of a tree, the impact reverberating through my bones. The world spun wildly around me, the trees twisting into distorted shapes, and the ground rushing toward me in a dizzying blur. Pain erupted through my entire being, and I could barely react.

    My vision blurred for a moment. The bitter taste of blood filled my mouth, and a deep, searing heat burned in my chest. My legs felt weak, barely able to twitch. My head throbbed, the pain a relentless wave, as if everything inside me was being crushed.

    The bear stood there, staring at me with an impassive gaze, its sheer size and presence making the air feel heavier. It didn¡¯t charge; it didn¡¯t need to. It was as if it knew my fate was already sealed. The wolf pup struggled to its feet nearby, but its body swayed, drained of strength. The rabbit was nowhere to be seen¡ªit had vanished into the chaos.

    I struggled to make sense of the scene unfolding around me. My breathing grew shallow, each breath feeling like it might be my last. The forest, once alive with sound, now seemed eerily still, except for the faint rustle of leaves and the ominous growls of the bear.

    And yet, amidst the agony and despair, something deep within me refused to give up. I couldn¡¯t die here¡ªnot now, not in this unforgiving wilderness. There was still a promise I had to fulfill.

    Summoning every ounce of willpower, I tried to move. My fingers tightened around the branch in my hand, slick with sweat and trembling from the strain. My vision, though hazy, managed to make out the colossal silhouette of the bear standing before me. I needed to act.

    I fought the pain that radiated throughout my body

    But¡­ my body betrayed me.

 Willpower

    Forcing my body to react, I fought against the pain radiating through every inch of me. Each part of my body felt impossibly heavy, but my mind screamed:

    ¡®Get up, move, do something!¡¯ Yet, no matter how unbreakable my will, my body refused to obey.

    It was as if I were trapped in a cocoon of pain and exhaustion. My hand, still clutching the hardened branch, felt frozen. The air itself seemed heavier, every breath tearing through my lungs like sharp blades.

    The silhouette of the giant bear dominated my vision, a dark blur amidst the faint glow of the forest, where sunlight barely filtered through the trees.

    It advanced slowly, each step booming like thunder in my mind. I could hear the deep, guttural growl resonating from its throat, the sound vibrating through the ground and reverberating in my chest.

    ¡®Not like this... I won¡¯t die like this,¡¯ I thought again, a bitter determination stirring deep in my soul, even as the reality around me seemed to conspire against me.

    The rabbit, now still and lifeless, was a cruel reminder of the fragility of life. ¡°It must have died on impact,¡±

    I concluded, my gaze locking onto the wolf pup nearby, panting and struggling to stand.

    Even injured, it refused to give up, its eyes gleaming with a primal instinct to survive¡ªan instinct I envied. It was cornered, just like me, but it kept trying. It kept fighting.

    My heart skipped a beat, and something within me flared to life. ¡°If it can keep going... why can¡¯t I?¡±

    The weakness that had crept into my thoughts began to dissipate, replaced by a spark of anger. Not at the bear. Not at the wolf. But at the situation. At the universe. At myself.

    ¡°DAMMIT!¡± My childish voice shattered the silence, more a cry of frustration than a defyance.

    ¡°DAMN YOU, DRACKNUM!¡±

    ¡°DAMN YOU, LEOPOLD, FOR THROWING ME INTO THIS WORLD!¡±

    ¡°DAMN THAT WHITE DIMENSION THAT WOULDN¡¯T LET ME ACCEPT DEATH!¡±

    The words poured out in a torrent, each one laced with desperation and rage.

    The bear raised its head in a slow, deliberate motion, its ears twitching as if it had heard every word of my furious outburst. Its eyes¡ªtwo dark voids of animal fury¡ªlocked onto me, gleaming with something that felt disturbingly human.

    I froze. My body wouldn¡¯t move. It was as if all the air around me had been sucked away.

    "I¡­" My voice faltered, but I pressed on, a whisper growing into a shout. "I can¡¯t die like this! Not after being given another chance!"

    Tears burned in my eyes as my childish voice carried the weight of all my frustration, helplessness, and, above all, fear.

    The bear, was sizing me up¡ªaware that I was weaker, more vulnerable. Its heavy steps crushed the ground beneath it, the sound pounding in my chest like the beat of war drums.

    My mind raced, frantically searching for a solution. Anything. I still held onto the hardened branch, but I knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough. Even so, I gripped it tighter, desperately trying to convince myself it was a weapon.

    ¡®Think, think!¡¯ my mind screamed, but my body refused to respond. The wind blew around me, carrying the earthy, damp scent of the forest mixed with something sharper, more metallic, more threatening¡ªthe unmistakable scent of blood.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    The wolf pup howled again, a weak, desperate sound that echoed deep inside me. We were both trapped.

    The bear¡¯s silhouette loomed larger as it drew closer, each step shaking the ground beneath me. The faint sunlight filtering through the treetops illuminated its rippling muscles and razor-sharp claws, glinting menacingly.

    Finally, my survival instinct took over. I channeled the elemental mana in the surrounding nature, feeling it hesitate before it began to flow sluggishly through my body. I knew I didn¡¯t have much time and that, with my current skill level, anything I did would be a desperate gamble.

    ¡ª  "Charge!" ¡ª I roared, the word leaving my lips in a hoarse cry as I gathered every last fragment of energy I had left. My trembling hand rose, and I watched as a small spark of lightning crackled between my fingers before shooting toward the bear.

    The bolt struck its side, but it was like throwing a pebble at a stone wall. The bear paused for a moment, its fur barely ruffled, and then its gaze ignited with even more fury. A guttural roar erupted from its throat, shaking the trees and freezing me in place.

    ¡®It¡¯s now or never,¡¯ I thought, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst. I funneled every ounce of mana I could muster into a final, reckless attempt.

    ¡ª "Breeze!" ¡ª  I shouted, the spell leaving my lips as I overloaded it with mana. The wind swirled violently around me, pressing against my skin like a suffocating force before suddenly launching me backward.

    The impact was brutal. The ground scraped against my skin as I tumbled, my body rolling uncontrollably across the forest floor. A groan of pain escaped my lips as I finally came to a stop, my limbs screaming in protest.

    ¡®I¡¯m still alive¡¯ I thought, struggling to catch my breath.

    The bear, now furious, let out a deafening roar that echoed through the trees, sending an icy wave of fear coursing through me. It started moving toward me again, its eyes filled with a predatory resolve.

    I tried to stand, but once more, my body refused to cooperate. Only my arms still seemed functional. ¡®Damn it, why? Why now?¡¯

    I glanced over at the wolf pup, still lying motionless near the base of the tree. Something inside me wouldn¡¯t let me abandon it, even though I knew staying meant risking my own life.

    ¡®Judging by the way it¡¯s upright, it must still have the strength to escape. It probably just doesn¡¯t run because it¡¯s afraid it¡¯ll be chased.¡¯

    I took a deep breath, preparing to do something that I knew was probably suicide. I didn¡¯t know how or why, but I couldn¡¯t just run. Not after that pup gave me the willpower I¡¯d been missing.

    ¡®Maybe they¡¯ll forgive me for this.¡¯

    I looked at the pup again, and, by some coincidence, it looked back at me¡ªor at least, that¡¯s what it seemed like.

    ¡°Run! Get out of here!¡± I croaked, my voice hoarse and broken. I didn¡¯t know if it could understand me, but I had to say it. I had to try. My unsteady smile was as much for the wolf as it was for myself¡ªa desperate attempt to hold onto courage.

    The pup hesitated, its gaze darting between me and the bear as though trying to decide what to do. But in the end, it turned and ran in the opposite direction.

    ¡®I think it understood me.¡¯ I exhaled in relief, quickly taking stock of the situation.

    ¡®This might be the last thing I ever do,¡¯ I thought, a faint tremor running through me¡ªnot from fear this time, but from sheer determination.

    ¡°I must be insane,¡± I muttered with a self-deprecating smile, raising the hardened branch with what little strength I had left.

    ¡ª ¡°Charge!¡± ¡ª I shouted, sending another bolt of lightning straight into the bear¡¯s chest. The magic barely hurt it, but it achieved what I needed: it pissed it off even more.

    ¡°Hey!¡± I yelled, my voice filled with raw emotion as I raised the branch like it was the most powerful weapon in the world. ¡°Come at me! Fight something that can hit back, you bastard!¡±

    The bear stopped for a moment, its attention snapping fully onto me. Its eyes burned like twin flames of pure fury. It let out another earth-shaking roar, the sound reverberating through my chest.

    The words escaped me with more force than I expected, as if they had been torn from some deep, hidden place. For a moment, everything around me faded: the wind, the trees, even the wolf pup. It was just me and the bear.

    It charged forward, each step shaking the ground beneath me. Its claws tore into the earth as it came at me like a living avalanche. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst, but I didn¡¯t step back.

    The bear leapt.

    ¡®If I¡¯m going down, I¡¯m going down fighting,¡¯ I thought, gripping the branch tightly. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, burning away the fear as I gathered every ounce of courage I had.

 Idiot

    Morus albiflorum venenata, a low-growing plant that rarely exceeds one meter in height, is as captivating as it is perilous. Its delicate white petals are pristine, providing a striking contrast to its deep red anthers. Its fruits, known as "phantom mulberries," are pale and translucent, alluring to the eye yet exceptionally dangerous.

    These fruits contain potent toxins that, when consumed, can unleash a cascade of harmful effects, starting with weakness and mild paralysis. These symptoms progress to blood clotting and hemoptysis (coughing up blood). In larger doses, the plant¡¯s venom induces more severe symptoms, including distorted magical perception, extreme pallor, hallucinations, temporary blindness, mana poisoning, and severe emotional imbalance. Ultimately, these effects lead to death.

    This plant is often mistaken for its harmless counterpart, Morus albiflorum, with which it shares a nearly identical appearance. The harmless variety produces "pale mulberries," completely safe for consumption. Despite their similarities in flowers and fruit, the leaves offer a crucial means of differentiation.

    The Morus albiflorum venenata has triangular, slightly serrated leaf edges, while the safe Morus albiflorum displays oval-shaped, smoothly rounded leaves. The anthers of the toxic variety are a more vivid red, whereas the safe variety¡¯s anthers exhibit a vibrant wine-like hue. These subtle details are essential for distinguishing between the two species and avoiding potentially fatal mistakes.

    "How could anyone possibly fail to tell these fruits apart?" muttered a child of about seven years old, his golden eyes glinting with disdain as he stared at the worn pages of the open book before him. His dark hair, tinged with purple, framed her face as his voice carried an air of exasperated impatience. He flipped through the book deftly, his small, agile hands moving with practiced ease.

    "Only an idiot would eat the poisonous one by mistake. Isn¡¯t that right, Albert?" he asked, casting a sharp glance at the tall, impassive butler standing beside him. His condescending tone filled the quiet library, where streams of light filtered through stained-glass windows, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

    Albert, with his immaculate posture and serene demeanor, appeared entirely unfazed by his critique. His reply was immediate, as if he had anticipated the question.

    ¡°Young master, not everyone is able to discern such differences, especially in the dark,¡± he said in his deep, calm voice, a stark contrast to the child¡¯s youthful irritation.

    ¡°In the Black Forest, for instance, distinguishing between the two would be nearly impossible unless one is an extraordinarily attentive expert. Even seasoned professionals have often been caught unaware by this plant.¡±

    Albert paused, as if weighing his words carefully, before speaking again in a grave, almost solemn tone. "That is why it is called the Death Mulberry."

    The child grimaced, his small body stiffening, though his eyes remained glued to the book as if trying to prove something to himself. He shook his head sharply, his dark hair flying around his face. ¡°Humph,¡± he muttered, disdain etched into her expression.

    ¡°Excuses. Only an ignorant fool or a truly stupid idiot would fall victim to such an easily identifiable plant.¡±

    He snapped the book shut with a loud, irritated clap, his face marked by frustration. Rising abruptly, his golden eyes glimmered with silent defiance. Without wasting a moment, he grabbed another book from one of the piles atop his desk, his movements both decisive and impatient. ¡°This book is for idiots,¡± he said with cutting derision, his voice as sharp as a blade. ¡°Albert, put it back where it belongs.¡±

    ¡°As you command, young master Alexander,¡± Albert replied, his impeccable posture unyielding. Without hesitation, he picked up the book and glanced at its cover. His eyes flicked over the title, lingering for a moment as though pondering the content. He made no comment, however, and carefully returned the book to its rightful place on the shelf, slotting it neatly among the other volumes.

    The title of the book read: Dracknum: A Beginner¡¯s Guide to the Black Forest.

    <hr>

    In the Black Forest, the stillness of the woods was broken by growls and the heavy thud of footsteps reverberating among the trees. The bear, immense and menacing, advanced with deliberate steps, its eyes fixed on its prey. With each movement, the ground seemed to tremble faintly under the weight of its massive frame.

    I lay stunned on the ground, struggling to react, but my body refused to obey. My vision blurred, and a searing heat coursed through me¡ªnot comforting warmth, but a burning sensation that worsened with every breath. The pain from the bear¡¯s blow, coupled with the strain of the magic I had used to push it away, throbbed through me, leaving my chest tight and my breaths shallow. I couldn¡¯t afford to hesitate now¡ªnot with the beast closing in.

    The sound of its heavy steps grew clearer. The bear¡¯s imposing figure loomed closer, its every movement radiating raw power. Even through my haze, I could make out its dark silhouette against the shadows of the forest. Its eyes locked onto mine, a ruthless predator that didn¡¯t need to think twice before striking.

    ¡®I won¡¯t die so easily,¡¯ I thought, a spark of determination flaring within me. My body was weak, every muscle screaming for respite, but something deeper pushed me to fight. Fear, pain, and exhaustion were forced into the recesses of my mind as I focused on everything I had learned until now.

    With a restrained cry, I focused every ounce of mana available in the environment that I could gather, channeling it into the spells that I knew were my only chance. The air around me seemed heavier, the oppressive weight of the forest pressing down on me, but that only fueled my urgency.

    ¡ª ¡°Breeze!¡± ¡ª I shouted, the wind magic enveloping my body with sudden force, propelling me backward. The ground rapidly slipped away beneath my feet, but the pain in my battered body caused me to lose control momentarily, sending me crashing heavily onto the forest floor. The sensation of being carried by an unseen current, as though swept along by a rushing wind, was both terrifying and exhilarating.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    I recovered as quickly as I could, my eyes fixed on the bear as it advanced with unrelenting fury. This was no longer a battle of physical strength¡ªit had become a test of survival. My hands trembled, but the magic I summoned was my only weapon.

    ¡ª ¡°Flame!¡± ¡ª I cast the fire spell, a small flickering flame sparking to life in my palm. It was fragile, almost insignificant, but power wasn¡¯t my goal¡ªcreation was. I had to use the forest itself against the beast.

    The flame didn¡¯t waver. I pressed it to the tree beside me, watching as the fire consumed the trunk, crackling through the dry branches and leaves. The heat hit me instantly, and the pungent scent of burning wood filled the air. I continued, guiding the fire into the undergrowth, watching it spread across the dry grass and leaves at my feet. The flames hissed and popped as they caught, the ground around me beginning to blaze.

    My focus remained sharp, even as my body quaked with exhaustion and pain. The bear drew closer, but the fire was starting to form a barrier between us. The flames leapt fiercely, illuminating the forest and carving a searing line that I hoped the animal wouldn¡¯t cross. The flickering light cast jagged shadows among the trees, heightening the tension of the moment.

    ¡®This has to work. If it doesn¡¯t, I¡¯m screwed,¡¯ I thought, adrenaline coursing through me as my breaths grew increasingly ragged.

    The bear halted, seemingly hesitant. Its gaze locked onto the wall of fire separating us as the heat began to take its toll.

    ¡ª ¡°Breeze!¡± ¡ª I shouted again, sending another gust of wind toward the flames. The wind whipped through the burning foliage, spreading the fire to nearby trees and filling the air with a stifling, smoky haze. The smoke swirled and thickened, blending with the flames to create an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere.

    I took a deep breath, my senses sharpened by the urgent need to act quickly. The fleeting sense of control over the situation, however tenuous, offered a sliver of comfort. I wasn¡¯t defeated¡ªnot yet.

    Summoning what strength I had left, I prepared to cast another spell. But before the words could fully leave my lips, an overwhelming wave of weakness enveloped me, as though every reserve of energy had suddenly drained from my body. The air around me grew oppressively dense, and my battered frame responded sluggishly. A heavy lethargy threatened to pull me under, but adrenaline kept me tethered to consciousness.

    ¡®Don¡¯t fail me now,¡¯ I thought, anger flickering faintly within me, fueling my resolve.

    The bear began to retreat, its massive, deliberate steps breaking the oppressive silence of the forest. It hesitated, perhaps recalculating its next move. This brief pause was all I needed.

    ¡®This is my chance!¡¯

    ¡ª ¡°Gale!¡± ¡ª I shouted the command, but the spell faltered. A weak, pathetic breeze rustled a few leaves, doing nothing to alter the bear¡¯s course. A pang of dread shot through me, but I refused to let it consume me. I tried again.

    ¡ª ¡°Gale!¡± ¡ª Nothing. The spell fizzled out before it could even manifest.

    Fighting the panic clawing at my chest, I attempted another incantation.

    ¡ª ¡°Flame!¡± ¡ª The word echoed in vain. The cold air around me remained untouched; the fire I relied on, my most trusted magic, was gone¡ªsnuffed out before it could even spark.

    Desperation mounting, I tried again.

    ¡ª ¡°Charge!¡± ¡ª This time, I felt the mana stir, faintly flickering to life. But just as quickly, it was repelled, as if the very environment around me were devouring every shred of energy I managed to muster.

    Frustration boiled over, erupting in a raw scream.

    ¡°DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL! BREE¡ª¡±

    Before I could finish, my body gave out. A fit of violent coughing overtook me, pain lancing through my chest as a metallic taste flooded my mouth. Blood spilled over my lips. Each cough drained more of my strength, each convulsion blurring my vision further. Warm, thick rivulets of crimson dripped down my chin, mingling with my fear and anguish.

    I didn¡¯t know if it was because I was weak because of the lack of nutrients or the damage I received, or even, because terror had taken hold of me, or if my eyes were deceiving me entirely. I looked at the bear again. It was no longer simply a beast. Its form seemed to shift and expand, becoming something far more monstrous.

    It was advancing, its immense figure dominating my field of vision. Its claws, already lethal, now appeared impossibly long, razor-sharp extensions of its wrath. Its teeth gleamed like daggers in the dim light, and its eyes¡ªthose wild, feral eyes¡ªnow burned with an unholy fury, as if possessed by a force far beyond nature.

    And then, as if the world itself had twisted into a nightmare, enormous wings unfurled from its back. They stretched outward, vast and menacing, their every movement stirring gusts of wind that seemed to mock my helplessness. The air trembled as the wings beat rhythmically, each powerful stroke amplifying the bear¡¯s monstrous presence.

    It stepped forward, unbothered by the flames that had once been my shield. The fire licked at its fur but did no harm, parting as if cowed by the sheer force of its unnatural power.

    It was ready to break through. To destroy. To end me.

    It leapt with an earth-shattering roar, its claws outstretched to seize me in a single, devastating motion. Its wings, now fully unfurled as the ultimate sign of its dominance, allowed it to glide toward me with terrifying grace.

    My hands, frozen in terror, refused to obey me. The branch I had gripped so desperately slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering to the ground. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t react¡ªI was entirely at its mercy.

    The world seemed to warp as it drew closer, its deadly claws inches from me, and the crushing weight of inevitability bore down on me like a nightmare unfolding in real time.

    There was no escape.

    My body, battered and drained, gave in to exhaustion, and darkness began to creep into my vision.

    The last thing I saw before everything slipped away was a shadow¡ªa figure darting in from the side, swift and precise like a blade slicing through the air. My eyes, blurred and fading, couldn¡¯t keep up with what unfolded next.

    All I could register was the faint, muffled sound of something slicing through the air, followed by an eerie silence that swallowed everything.

 Dr.Wolf

    When I woke up, a sensation of floating enveloped me, as if my soul were suspended, detached from my body, lingering somewhere between life and death. The silence around me was almost tangible¡ªdense and oppressive, as though the entire world was holding its breath, waiting. Each beat of my heart seemed to echo, reverberating through an endless, empty space. I could barely grasp what was happening, my mind clouded and heavy like lead.

    My eyes opened slowly, reluctant to accept the strange darkness surrounding me. Everything seemed distorted, as though I were peering through a thick veil of mist. The moonlight, filtered through the trees, was faint and diffused, just enough to outline indistinct shadows. The air was fresh, carrying an earthy scent of herbs and wild plants that filled my nostrils. It was a smell that was both soothing and unsettling, like something familiar I couldn¡¯t quite place.

    I tried to move, but it felt as though my body was trapped. With effort, I turned my head, my fingers brushing against the cold, hard surface beneath me. Stone. My legs and arms, however, refused to obey¡ªunresponsive, as if my own body had rebelled against me. It was a cruel reminder of the battle that had nearly cost me my life.

    ¡®My body¡­¡¯ I thought, as the realization hit me like a cold blade. ¡®I really did break myself completely.¡¯

    ¡®But what¡­ happened? I¡­ I should have died¡­ again.¡¯ The words formed slowly in my mind, each one crawling through the fog that clouded my thoughts, a heavy veil of confusion obscuring everything.

    I couldn¡¯t make sense of it. In that fight with the bear, I¡­ I was supposed to leave this world. And yet here I was, breathing, in a physical body that seemed intact¡ªor almost¡ªthough it didn¡¯t feel the same as before. This wasn¡¯t the white dimension. So where was I? Who had brought me here?

    Amid the haze of my thoughts, a sound broke through the silence. First, a distant howl. Then another. And another still. A series of howls, the echoes of a pack. Something deep in my mind warned me of imminent danger, but my body was paralyzed, unable to react.

    ¡®No, I can¡¯t¡­ ¡®I thought, but the fear didn¡¯t come. There was a strange calmness instead, as though, against all logic, I had made peace with whatever was coming next.

    Suddenly, the sound of irregular footsteps reached my ears. They weren¡¯t human. Quick, erratic, as if the creature responsible for them was constantly on the move, ever-watchful. Whatever it was, I couldn¡¯t immediately identify it, yet my curiosity remained, unshaken by the uncertainty.

    Suddenly, something heavy landed on my face, plunging me into darkness for a brief moment.

    But when my eyes opened again, I saw the creature. A massive, shadowy figure, covered in black, wavy fur. Its ears were pointed, and its nose¡ªor rather, its snout¡ªexuded an odd warmth. Its gaze, fixed and curious, studied me with an intelligence that felt eerily familiar. Sharp teeth glinted under the light of the full moon, visible even in the faint illumination.

    ¡®A wolf?¡¯ The question emerged in my mind with a clarity that contrasted sharply with the fog of confusion clouding me.

    ¡®First a bear, now a wolf? I must be... quite the delicacy,¡¯ I thought, oddly devoid of fear, resigned instead to a strange acceptance of my vulnerability.

    The creature began moving around my body in slow, deliberate circles. I couldn¡¯t see clearly, nor could I move to get a better look. For several minutes, it prowled, its movements irregular and enigmatic, until it approached again. One of its large, firm paws pressed against me with a surprising gentleness.

    Then, without warning, it spat out a green, viscous substance directly onto my skin. The sensation was alien¡ªcold, sticky, and faintly unsettling.

    ¡°There was no need for that,¡± I murmured weakly, my voice barely a whisper.

    ¡®Even a wolf finds me worthy of spitting on¡¯, I thought, the irony pulling a faint, tired smile from my lips.

    The wolf ignored my words entirely. Instead, it began spreading the green, viscous substance over my skin with its large paws. Its movements were deliberate, careful even, but the sensation sent shivers through me. It was unsettling, and I wanted to protest, to demand answers about what it was doing, but the words remained stuck in my throat, unspoken.

    It continued its work methodically, with a precision that belied its animalistic form. Its breath was steady and warm, and I could feel the weight of its presence, even though my body refused to cooperate enough to let me fully observe it.

    This wasn¡¯t mere instinct; there was intention in every action, a purpose I couldn¡¯t decipher. Its crimson eyes, glowing like embers in the dim moonlight filtering into the cave, hinted at something far beyond the natural.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    For a moment, I fixated on the creature. ¡®This is no ordinary wolf¡¯, I thought as my weary eyes followed its fluid, calculated movements. It wasn¡¯t acting like a predator, not entirely. It wasn¡¯t hunting me¡ªit seemed to know exactly what it was doing.

    The wolf paused, lifting its snout to sniff the air, as though checking its surroundings. Then it turned its piercing gaze toward me, its glowing eyes locking onto mine. The intensity of its stare was almost unbearable, as if it were peering into my very soul. It let out a low, rumbling sound¡ªsomewhere between a growl and a grunt. It wasn¡¯t hostile. If anything, it felt like a warning.

    ¡°Who¡­ who are you?¡± I croaked, my voice faint and strained. I knew I wouldn¡¯t get an answer in words, but I asked anyway. Some part of me hoped, irrationally, that this creature could respond, that it could somehow explain what was happening.

    The wolf didn¡¯t answer, of course, but the glow in its eyes seemed to flicker, like a spark responding to a breath of wind. Its gaze lingered, heavy with meaning I couldn¡¯t yet grasp, before it returned to its strange, deliberate task.

    The wolf didn¡¯t answer. Instead, it let out a low howl that echoed through the walls of the cave. Before I could process the sound, it returned to its task, spreading the remaining substance over my body with the same methodical precision as before.

    When it was done, the wolf simply lay down beside me, like a guardian who had fulfilled its duty but still remained watchful. For a moment, I stayed silent, observing it. It seemed so calm, so serene, that I almost forgot the danger that still loomed around me.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ helping me? Why?¡± My voice was barely a whisper, almost lost in the cool, heavy air of the cave. The wolf, until then completely still, turned its head to look at me. Its eyes, glowing a pure, vivid red, held a depth that made me question everything I thought I knew about the world.

    Even in Alexander¡¯s memories, in the countless books he had read and the stories he had listened to so eagerly, there had been no mention of wild animals behaving the way this wolf was.

    It didn¡¯t answer, but in that deep, enigmatic gaze, one thing was clear: for now, I was safe.

    <hr>

    I didn¡¯t know how much time had passed. The darkness felt endless, but my mind, sluggish and muddled as it was, had begun to adjust. Then the growl of my empty stomach shattered the silence, pulling me back to reality.

    ¡®Ah, right. I haven¡¯t eaten in hours¡¯ The thought came, cold and resigned.

    ¡®Not that there¡¯s anything I can do about it in this state.¡¯ I sighed, a faint, ironic smile tugging at my lips. ¡®I¡¯ve been saved, only to starve to death.¡¯

    As if it had heard my grim musings, the wolf beside me rose. It was large, yet its movements were incredibly fluid, almost graceful. Lifting its snout, it let out a deep, resonant howl that echoed through the cave¡ªa melody that stirred something primal in the air.

    Seconds later, other howls answered in the distance. They were faint at first, but quickly grew louder, closer. My brow furrowed. ¡®What is it doing now?¡¯

    It didn¡¯t take long for me to hear the sound of approaching footsteps¡ªquick, rhythmic, the unmistakable patter of paws on damp earth. And then I saw them: three smaller wolves entered the cave, their movements cautious and alert. They glanced at me briefly, their sharp eyes assessing, before turning their attention to the wolf that seemed to lead them.

    The wolf that had been guarding me stepped aside, making way for the newcomers.

    ¡®Even animals have shift changes?¡¯ I thought, incredulous, though I lacked the energy to laugh at the irony.

    Before I could make sense of what was happening, the new wolves began to nudge my body. One pushed my head, another supported my torso, and the third held my legs. Their touch was surprisingly gentle, almost careful.

    ¡®What¡­?¡¯ Before I could finish the thought, I felt myself falling, but the impact was cushioned by something soft. My position shifted, and I realized I was now lying face down.

    ¡®They¡­ put me on his back!?¡¯ I glanced at the wolf that had been guarding me earlier. Now, it was carrying me, moving slowly as if afraid I might slip off.

    The journey was slow, marked only by the sound of steady paws against the ground, but I couldn¡¯t see where we were going. My head hung low, and my vision was limited to the dirt and leaves passing beneath us.

    When we finally stopped, the wolf carefully lowered itself, and the other wolves moved me again, positioning me so I was leaning against a smooth rock. Now I was sitting, though still unable to move.

    ¡®My babysitters are wolves¡­ does this count as animal exploitation?¡¯ The thought flickered in my mind, only to be replaced by something far more profound.

    The first thing I noticed was the moon. Enormous, majestic, and full, its silver glow illuminated the clearing with an almost ethereal light. I was transfixed by the sight for a few moments, until something else drew my attention.

    In front of a rocky formation stood a white wolf, larger than any of the others. Its fur shimmered under the moonlight, and its golden eyes stared at me with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. Around it, small pups were scattered¡ªsome nursing, others clumsily playing with their still-uncoordinated paws.

    ¡®It must be a mother,¡¯ I thought, watching the scene with a mix of awe and bewilderment. But there was something unsettling about the white wolf. Its gaze¡ªit was far too human.

    ¡°Child, do not be afraid,¡± a feminine voice echoed in my mind, soft yet brimming with authority. ¡°Come to me. There is room for you still.¡±

    ¡®What?¡¯ My heart raced. I looked at the white wolf, its golden eyes locked on mine. There was no doubt¡ªthe voice was coming from her.

    ¡°Child, come,¡± the voice spoke again. ¡°Do not be shy. Feed yourself.¡±

    My mind froze as I processed her words. I glanced at the pups still nursing and felt a shiver run down my spine.

    ¡®Feed?¡¯ I thought, horrified. The idea was so absurd, so grotesque, that for a moment it made me forget my dire situation entirely.

 Feed yourself

    ¡®Feed myself?¡¯ The word echoed in my mind, absurd and impossible. For a moment, the shock was so overwhelming it nearly eclipsed the pain and exhaustion consuming my body. My breathing became ragged, and my thoughts tangled between disbelief and unease.

    ¡°I know I¡¯m a mammal too,¡± I began, my voice trembling with nervous sarcasm, as I fixed my gaze on the white wolf in front of me. Its golden, commanding eyes seemed to peer straight into my soul, as if it already knew what I was about to say. ¡°But¡­ this? This is completely unnatural.¡±

    The air around me felt heavy, saturated with the damp scent of the forest mixed with the warmth emanating from the wolves beside me. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting rippling shadows that danced across the ground, a surreal contrast between the untamed wilderness and the unsettling reality I was now living.

    The cubs around the white wolf continued to feed unhurriedly, their small movements producing muffled sounds that broke the stillness of the night. The scene was both peaceful and deeply unsettling¡ªa vision so far removed from normality that my mind struggled to fully process it. Even so, the creature¡¯s gaze on me remained steady and unyielding.

    I knew I was in a different world, one where the rules I understood on Earth no longer applied. But this? Being nursed by a wolf? Even in this place, it was too surreal to fathom. Then her voice returned, echoing in my mind like a whisper, filled with patience and authority:

    ¡°Cub, your body needs strength to recover¡­ and to fight the poison.¡±

    The shock of those words jolted me back to the present. ¡°Poison? What poison?¡± I asked, confusion and fear blending into my tone.

    ¡°I am not certain,¡± she replied, her voice calm but grave. ¡°I only heard others of your kind speak of ghost berries.¡±

    My sluggish, clouded mind suddenly lit up with a spark of realization. ¡°Damn it, Dalton, no¡ªAlexander, you idiot!¡± Fragmented memories came crashing back, like a punch to the gut, piecing everything together: the fruits, the strange taste¡­

    ¡®I¡¯ve been poisoned by a plant Alexander was supposed to know inside out.¡¯ My chest tightened with the cruel irony of it all. My vision wavered between the white wolf¡ªmajestic and serene¡ªand the cubs nursing peacefully around her.

    ¡®So that¡¯s why¡­ the paralysis, the failed spells,¡¯ I thought, exhaling deeply.

    My eyes drifted to the majestic moon, hanging in the sky behind the imposing white wolf before me. Its silvery light bathed the scene with an almost ironic serenity, given the internal chaos I was enduring.

    I let out a long sigh, allowing myself a fleeting moment of pause.

    ¡®What¡¯s done is done. There¡¯s no use crying over spilled milk.¡¯ The thought echoed in my mind, pulling me back to reality with a resigned sense of acceptance.

    ¡°Thank you for the concern,¡± I began, my voice laced with hesitation as I tried to preserve a shred of dignity. ¡°But my bloodline grants me resistance to certain poisons. Ghost berries¡­ they¡¯re included¡ªup to a point.¡±

    The white wolf tilted her head slightly, as though weighing my words, but her piercing golden gaze remained unrelenting, almost challenging. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I doubt that¡¯s true given the amount you consumed, especially with your body in this state¡ªweak and broken,¡± she countered, her tone firm yet devoid of hostility.

    ¡°...¡± I couldn¡¯t argue.

    She was right. I had eaten a ridiculous amount of those berries. My body, perhaps dulled to the pain by the herbs they had applied, was paralyzed and battered. The Dracknum bloodline, as resilient as it was, wouldn¡¯t be enough to overcome such devastating effects without either an antidote or ample time to build resistance. The despair I had been stubbornly pushing aside crept back in, whispering that I wouldn¡¯t last much longer.

    The white wolf broke the silence, her voice softer now but still carrying an air of authority. ¡°Cub, we managed to stop your bleeding and close your external wounds, but the poison can only be cured¡­¡± She paused, as if carefully choosing her words. ¡°...if you have the strength to fight it. And for that, you need to eat.¡±

    My gaze fell once more to the cubs nursing at her side, and the implication became clear. Her words were logical, but that didn¡¯t make the suggestion any less unsettling.

    Even though her reasoning was sound, my pride¡ªshattered and fragile as my body¡ªrefused to yield so easily. There had to be another way, any other way.

    ¡°I understand, but even so¡­¡± I started, my voice trembling as I struggled to maintain a shred of dignity in the face of this surreal predicament.

    It seemed, however, that my opinion was of little consequence. The black wolf, who had been silently watching over me like a sentry since the beginning, stepped forward from behind. His movements were deliberate, his presence looming. Before I could react, he began to nudge me with his snout, his actions firm and insistent, leaving no room for argument.

    ¡°Hey, hey, stop! Stop it! I already said I refuse!¡± I protested, my voice slow and slurred, weakened by the herbs and exhaustion. It felt like trying to stop an avalanche with a twig. The black wolf showed no hesitation. His behavior was almost mechanical, as though following an unspoken command from a higher authority, utterly ignoring my feeble protests.

    ¡°This is a violation of my rights!¡± I tried to argue, my indignation laced with desperation. Yet my words seemed to dissolve into the air, leaving no echo, no impact. I was still under the numbing effects of the herbs. My legs were useless, my body so weak that my resistance amounted to nothing more than a pathetic display. I was pushed forward, helpless, toward the source of sustenance my pride stubbornly refused to accept.

    Each push felt like another sentence of humiliation. The scene around me¡ªthe moon¡¯s glow, the carefree cubs, and the golden eyes of the white wolf watching me with infinite patience¡ªwas a painful reminder that, at this moment, I was nothing more than a pup struggling futilely against the leader of the pack.

    After leaving a trail in the dirt and finding myself face-to-face with what I dreaded most, I let out a deep sigh, my mind still torn between the discomfort of the situation and the crushing need to survive. I leaned against the white wolf¡¯s flank, joining the cubs who were feeding with an enthusiasm that only amplified my unease. The warm texture of her fur against my skin was somehow comforting, but it didn¡¯t make the moment any less surreal.

    ¡°I really hope no one sees this,¡± I murmured to myself, almost inaudibly. My pride was already in tatters, but at least I still had my irony to cling to.

    The full moon poured its light over the clearing, bathing everything in a silver glow. The other wolves around me remained silent, as if paying their respects to the moment. A soft breeze carried the scent of damp forest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt my body begin to relax.

    As I fed, an odd sensation started creeping through me¡ªa strange but unmistakable return of strength. Alongside it was another feeling, subtle but noticeable, something I couldn¡¯t quite identify. My body was finally beginning to respond, slowly stirring back to life. My mind, however, remained trapped in a slow whirlpool of conflicting thoughts and emotions. It was humiliating, but at the same time, each sip felt like a promise that I still had a chance.

    ¡°Well done, cub,¡± the white wolf¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, this time carrying a note of approval.

    ¡°One must eat to grow strong and healthy.¡± Her tone held a steady seriousness, a calming reassurance, but I could detect a faint touch of amusement as well.

 The Voice From the Spirit

    I lay on my back, staring at the night sky dotted with stars. Still dazed, my mind wandered slowly¡ªnot just from the effects of the herbs, but from the surreal chain of events that had brought me here. My body remained motionless; my arms and legs still refused to obey, but at least my stomach was full. For the first time since entering this forest, I felt satisfied¡ªthough at the cost of a pride that seemed more wounded than any bone in my body.

    The words of the white wolf echoed in my mind, bringing back the sting of humiliation.

    "Pup, your body isn''t ready to digest anything solid. Until you regain your strength, I will continue to nurse you."

    I let out a heavy sigh. Why was I dumb enough to eat those berries? I thought, frustration swirling endlessly.

    ¡®Now I¡¯m stuck being nursed until¡­ who knows when.¡¯

    A soft sound pulled me out of my thoughts.

    Sniff¡­ sniff.

    Something small was approaching, and as I tilted my head slightly, I saw a wolf pup. It was sniffing at me curiously, though it quickly stumbled, looking a little dizzy. I couldn¡¯t help but smile at the sight.

    The little pup recovered quickly and came closer again. With clumsy movements, it climbed onto my chest, licking my face before curling up as if it had found the perfect spot to rest.

    My eyes studied it more carefully, and the realization hit me almost instantly:

    ¡®Wait¡­ this is the pup that was running from the bear!¡¯

    I recognized it easily among the other pups in the pack. Its golden eyes gleamed like the leader¡¯s, and its black fur, streaked with gray, reminded me of the wolf who had been taking care of me. Dr. Wolf, I decided to call him¡ªa name that felt oddly fitting.

    The pup, now with a full belly, settled comfortably on my chest, its breathing soft and rhythmic. I couldn¡¯t stop my smile from widening.

    ¡®At least¡­ this isn¡¯t so bad.¡¯

    <hr>

    By morning¡ªor what I assumed was morning, since the sun hadn¡¯t yet reached its peak¡ªI was awakened by strange noises. Something was being dragged, a rhythmic sound of weight scraping against the ground. My eyes opened slowly, still heavy from the exhaustion that clung to me.

    The first thing I noticed was the wolf pup, still nestled on my chest, its calm, steady breaths mirroring the serenity of someone who felt completely safe.

    ¡®This little guy really thinks I¡¯m his bed, I thought with a faint smile.¡¯

    I turned my head toward the sound and saw two wolves dragging a massive carcass into the clearing. It was a bear. Its dark brown fur looked even denser under the filtered light breaking through the trees. The claws on its paws were long and sharp, a grim reminder of the damage they could inflict. But what truly caught my attention was the gaping wound on its neck. It seemed the bear had been caught off guard, killed with a single bite that tore a significant chunk of flesh away.

    ¡®So, it¡¯s him¡¯, I thought, recognizing it as the creature that had almost ended me. The sight of its claws and enormous body should have stirred some emotion¡ªfear, relief, maybe even vengeance¡ªbut all I felt was an odd calm. I exhaled softly, a single thought crossing my mind: Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡®I guess those wings really were just my imagination.¡¯

    The wolves positioned the carcass near the center of the clearing and began tearing into it with methodical precision. Their teeth ripped through the flesh with efficiency, pulling off chunks that disappeared swiftly into their mouths. It was a gory and visceral scene, one that should have repulsed me, but instead, I found myself watching with a strange sense of tranquility.

    ¡®It¡¯s strange¡¯, I mused, my eyes fixed on the wolves at work.

    ¡®I should feel uncomfortable, even disgusted. But¡­ I don¡¯t feel anything.¡¯

    There was no revulsion at what I saw, no lingering anger at the bear that had nearly killed me. Just a quiet acceptance of it all.

    ¡°Ah, I see you¡¯re awake, pup,¡± the voice of the white wolf echoed in my mind once again, carrying a serenity that contrasted with the rawness of the scene unfolding before me. A shiver ran down my spine, an involuntary reaction tied to the memories of the previous day.

    ¡®Great¡­ is it breakfast time already?¡¯ I thought, a mix of resignation and dry humor tugging a brief sigh from my chest. But before I could dwell on the thought, I decided to shake off my wandering mind and focus on what truly mattered.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get the chance to thank you before, but¡­ thank you,¡± I said aloud, my voice laden with genuine gratitude. It was a heartfelt expression, despite the lingering awkwardness of my situation.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s we¡­ I, who should thank you,¡± the wolf responded, her calm voice resonating in my thoughts like a gentle yet firm melody.

    ¡°But I didn¡¯t do anything to deserve your gratitude or your help,¡± I countered, my mind turning over the events, searching for something to justify her words.

    Before I could think further, the pup curled up on my chest stirred. Its small body wriggled, and it sniffled slightly, its wet nose twitching and its eyes glassy with what seemed like mild irritation. But as soon as it noticed the white wolf¡¯s presence, it wobbled to its feet and began making its way toward her. Its little body swayed with unsteady balance, but it moved with determination.

    ¡°No, you¡¯ve done much for us,¡± the wolf continued, her gaze softening as it shifted to the pup.

    ¡°After all, you saved this little one here.¡±

    My mind worked to piece it all together, but before I could ask anything else, she continued, ¡°And it was him who asked for you to be saved. Of course,¡± she added, her voice taking on a firm yet maternal tone.

    ¡°I would have done so even if he hadn¡¯t asked.¡±

    ¡®Ah¡¯, I thought, the simplicity of her revelation hitting me like a gentle yet unexpected blow. That pup, who I¡¯d already found remarkable, now carried a whole new significance. He wasn¡¯t just brave¡ªhe had literally asked for my salvation. The realization shifted something within me, reshaping how I viewed everything.

    ¡°By the way,¡± I began, curiosity overriding my exhaustion, ¡°there¡¯s something that¡¯s been bothering me¡­ how am I able to communicate with you?¡±

    The wolf held my gaze for a moment, her golden eyes calm and almost unnervingly composed, as if weighing how best to explain.

    ¡°It¡¯s because I transmit my intentions directly to your spirit,¡± she said finally, her voice resonating with a clarity that stood in stark contrast to the complexity of her words.

    ¡°Directly to my spirit?¡± I repeated, puzzled. The idea was foreign, even for Alexander, whose vast knowledge spanned everything from basic magic to obscure texts on spiritual beings. To him, the spirit was something vague and intangible¡ªmore closely tied to nature spirits than anything concrete.

    ¡°Humans, elves, dwarves, and many others communicate using what they call languages,¡± the wolf explained, her voice steady, flowing like a calm river.

    ¡°But contrary to what most believe, animals, beasts, monsters, and even demons have their own forms of communication. What prevents us from understanding one another are the barriers of the physical realm. However, in the realm of the mind and spirit, there are no words¡ªonly ideas, concepts, and intentions. What I do is communicate directly with your spirit, bypassing those barriers entirely.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re essentially skipping the words and going straight to the meaning,¡± I murmured, trying to wrap my head around it.

    ¡°But¡­ isn¡¯t that supposed to be impossible? Even beast tamers have to establish a formal contract to enable that kind of communication¡­¡± My thoughts spiraled, combing through Alexander¡¯s fragmented knowledge, analyzing and cross-referencing. ¡°Unless¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she interrupted, her voice firm and definitive. ¡°I am a pureblood magical beast.¡±

 Full Moon Melancholy

    The revelation left me speechless for a few moments. A pure-blooded magical beast? I thought, my mind racing frantically. It was unprecedented¡ªsomething that defied even the vast knowledge accumulated by Alexander. Much like vampires and dragons, magical beasts adhered to a strict hierarchy based on the purity of their blood. Those with diluted bloodlines ranked at the bottom of the chain, while the pure-blooded stood at the very pinnacle. Depending on the quality and degree of that purity, pure-blooded magical beasts could be as rare as dragons themselves¡ªcreatures of near-mythical status.

    ¡°But... but...¡± The words stumbled out, hesitant, my voice reflecting the confusion and disbelief surging through me.

    ¡°After the extermination...¡±

    I stopped, the sentence catching in my throat. A fragmented memory of an event described in one of Alexander¡¯s books surfaced in my mind. Centuries ago, a bloody war had nearly wiped out the pure-blooded magical beasts. Like dragons and giants, they were deemed threats to the balance of power and the dominance of intelligent races. Fear and greed¡ªof humans, elves, dwarves, and even some demon tribes¡ªhad sealed the fate of many of these creatures.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the she-wolf responded, as if reading my thoughts. Her voice was calm, yet laden with something I couldn¡¯t quite place¡ªmelancholy, perhaps?

    ¡°After the extermination, only a few of us remained. It wasn¡¯t just a hunt; it was a purge.¡±

    Her golden eyes bore into mine, and for the first time, I noticed the profound depth of wisdom within them.

    Her golden eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time, I noticed the profound depth of both wisdom and pain within them.

    ¡°So, how did you survive?¡± I asked, my voice steadier now despite the initial hesitation.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t survive by mere chance,¡± she replied, her tone grave but laced with a hint of pride.

    ¡°My lineage predates the fall, and my ancestors had to pay a great price to endure.¡±

    Her words left me speechless. Standing before such a rare creature and hearing a story that felt as though it had been ripped straight from the pages of legend was something I had never imagined. I watched her, feeling the weight of the history she carried, while the pup nestled beside her, blissfully unaware of the grandeur of its lineage.

    My mind, however, refused to stop turning, racing to piece together the fragments of the tale.

    ¡°That price,¡± I began, my voice hesitant but resolute, ¡°was it... the ability to reason?¡±

    The she-wolf remained silent, her golden eyes fixed on mine. There was no disdain, no impatience in her expression¡ªonly a quiet weight, as if this moment was yet another confirmation of a burden she had carried for a long time.

    ¡°But then... how... how do you manage?¡± My voice nearly broke, a mix of curiosity and reverence overflowing.

    ¡°As you said, my ancestors chose to relinquish reason in order to survive. But that doesn¡¯t mean we became mindless beasts,¡± she replied, her tone thoughtful, carrying an undertone of pride. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°We still possess instincts... and a trace of reason.¡±

    ¡®That makes sense. If they¡¯d lost everything, these wolves wouldn¡¯t be nearly as intelligent as they are,¡¯ I thought, recalling how Dr. Wolf had cared for me with such precision and awareness.

    ¡°We also gave up our strength and access to the power of our bloodline,¡± she continued, her words tinged with deep melancholy.

    ¡°But among the descendants of the magical beasts who made this sacrifice, there are anomalies¡ªrare ones, like me¡ªwho can tap into fragments of that lineage.¡±

    ¡°But such an anomaly comes at a great cost and much pain,¡± she added, her voice softening but losing none of its weight.

    ¡°I only survived because of a human who helped me. She cared for me, fed me, taught me, and welcomed me into her pack.¡±

    Her tone grew gentler, filled with sincerity and gratitude. ¡°And she was very much like you, pup,¡± she concluded, her eyes shimmering with a blend of nostalgia and tenderness.

    <hr>

    Hours had passed since that conversation. I now lay down once again, the faint moonlight bathing my weakened body. I had been fed again, though this time there was no room for resistance. My mind was far too preoccupied with the she-wolf¡¯s revelations.

    The conversation had been more fruitful than I could have ever anticipated. I had learned not only about the forest and the purpose of the liquid she had been feeding me¡ªwhich served as an antidote to specific poisons, including the one coursing through my veins¡ªbut also something far more personal: my mother in this world. Alexander¡¯s mother.

    It was she who had saved and cared for the white wolf. The wolf¡¯s description matched perfectly with Alexander¡¯s fragmented memories: a woman with warm brown skin and hazel eyes, vibrant and endlessly optimistic, yet trapped in a frail body that contrasted sharply with her boundless energy. The way the she-wolf spoke of her was almost reverent, as though she had been a beacon of light in a world consumed by darkness.

    As I remembered her, a subtle ache stirred in my chest. It wasn¡¯t something I could clearly define, but it felt like a blend of longing and regret, as if something precious had been lost before I even had the chance to fully understand its value. I closed my eyes, trying to manage the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

    ¡®She must have been extraordinary for Alexander to miss her so deeply¡¯, I thought, her image forming in my mind like a beacon cutting through the shadows.

    A small, wistful smile tugged at my lips.

    ¡®But no more extraordinary than my own,¡¯ I reflected with a familiar melancholy. Finally, I sighed, allowing myself a rare moment of vulnerability.

    ¡®It seems Alexander and I have far more in common than I thought.¡¯

    My thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of rustling leaves in the distance. The wolves were gathering again, their howls rising in unison to the full moon, which majestically bathed the clearing in its pale light. It was a surreal and breathtaking sight, their voices weaving a melody that seemed to carry directly into the heavens.

    ¡®This world¡­¡¯ I thought, my gaze drifting to the stars, which shimmered more brightly that night.

    ¡®...truly is mad.¡¯

    The moonlight gave the surrounding trees a silvery hue, while a gentle breeze stirred the leaves, carrying the fresh scent of the forest and the distant murmurs of the untamed wild.

    I felt calm. My ears took in every note of the wolves'' song, and something within me began to settle. That moment felt frozen in time, a rare fragment of peace amidst the chaos of my journey so far.

    No matter how surreal it all seemed, one thing was clear: I was still alive. And in that moment, that was what mattered most.

    But as my mind wandered among the stars and the wolves¡¯ song, another question finally surfaced, breaking through the silence.

    ¡®But... how are the others doing?¡¯

 Dear Diary

    In the capital of the Kingdom of Allythe¨®n, called Arcadion, within the imposing Palace of Aurith¨¦a¡ªa place where towers of white marble gleamed under the sunlight and the gardens seemed like living works of art¡ªlay the chambers of the third princess.

    The room was spacious and elegantly decorated, though not excessively so. Curtains made of golden fabric, so delicate they seemed woven from sunlight itself, swayed gently in the breeze drifting in through the open window. At a carved wooden desk adorned with ancient symbols, a girl was seated.

    Her golden hair, shining like fields of wheat under the summer sun, cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with a liveliness that seemed to capture all the energy of the day. She moved with the unconscious grace of someone still bearing the innocence of youth, yet her posture and gestures revealed an uncommon maturity for her age.

    With a fine and elegant quill in hand, she leaned slightly over what appeared to be a peculiar diary, bound in dark leather with magical inscriptions faintly glowing under the light.

    ¡ª Dear Magical Diary, ¡ª she began, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as the quill glided smoothly across the paper. Her lips were curved in a radiant smile, and her golden eyes shone with the soft light filtering through the window.

    ¡ª It¡¯s been some time since I came to this world and became a princess. I can finally say I¡¯ve fully adapted to this new life. ¡ª

    She paused, tilting her head slightly as she watched the quill¡¯s tip move in rhythm with her words.

    ¡ª At first, I thought it would be more difficult and take longer, since Mr. Leopold said there might be setbacks and that the process would take a month to complete. ¡ª

    Her fingers began twirling the quill absentmindedly, as her expression took on a pensive air.

    ¡ª But it¡¯s been a week now, and I already feel as though all the memories I was meant to receive have been fully integrated into my mind. I feel as though I¡¯ve become Alice, and Alice has become me. Or rather... that I was always the third princess from the very beginning. ¡ª

    She smiled to herself, amused, before continuing.

    ¡ª From her gestures, tastes, dislikes, even her way of thinking or acting. It¡¯s all so confusing and yet, at the same time, immensely fun. ¡ª

    Alice paused again, resting her chin on her free hand as she gazed at the written page, a glimmer of satisfaction shining in her eyes. A soft, almost musical laugh escaped her lips, echoing gently through the tranquil room.

    ¡ª I think I¡¯ve written about this countless times already, but¡­ this world is incredible! ¡ª

    She exclaimed. The quill, still spinning between her fingers, stopped as she turned her attention back to the diary. Leaning slightly forward, an animated expression lit up her face.

    ¡°But above all, you, my dear diary, are the best thing. Such a special gift from Mr. Leopold! A diary bound to its owner, one that only I can read. And the best part: it transforms into a bracelet!"

    She raised her arm, showing a delicate golden bracelet that, with a faint spark of magic, turned back into the diary in her hands.

    "And I can even choose the bracelet¡¯s design!"

    Her face brightened even more as she spoke, as if simply sharing her thoughts with the diary brought her a unique comfort.

    ¡ª Since coming here, I¡¯ve learned so much, met new people, and witnessed so many surreal things¡ªespecially for someone from Earth. ¡ª Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Her expression turned more wistful, her eyes drifting toward the window where sunlight cast dancing patterns on the floor.

    Leaning back over the diary, the quill moved fluidly over the enchanted paper.

    ¡ª The magic here is real. Magical beasts, monsters, demons, dragons, elves, and so much more exist! ¡ª

    She paused, her eyes gleaming as she murmured, "Speaking of elves¡­"

    Her voice softened, almost reverent.

    ¡ª The royal palace librarian is an elf. And she¡¯s so beautiful¡­ ¡ª

    As she said this, she rested her chin on her hand again, her golden eyes gazing off into the distance, clearly lost in a memory or daydream. Her lips curved into a gentle smile, and her posture relaxed, as though the memory itself was a refreshing breeze on a warm summer¡¯s day.

    "Oh, I nearly forgot to write what¡¯s really important!" she said suddenly, snapping back to reality with a light laugh.

    The quill glided across the paper with renewed agility as she leaned forward, propping her chin on her free hand.

    ¡ª  This is my 20th day in this world, and during this time, as a princess, I¡¯ve been required to take countless lessons in etiquette, history, geography, law, horseback riding¡­¡ª

    She listed, pausing slightly after each word, as though each one were a weight on her shoulders.

    She sighed, but her golden eyes soon sparkled with a hint of excitement.

    ¡ª But my favorite lessons are history and magic. ¡ª

    She straightened up, lifting the quill from the paper for a moment, and with a small smile of anticipation, raised her palm.

    ¡ª ¡°Light,¡± ¡ª  she murmured softly, and with that, a small white, luminous sphere appeared in her open hand.

    The sphere¡¯s glow reflected in her eyes as she gazed at it with a mixture of fascination and pride.

    ¡ª The history of this world is so rich, and the magic is... ¡ª she hesitated, searching for the right words while twirling the sphere between her fingers like a small treasure.

    ¡ª It¡¯s something anyone from Earth would find fascinating. There are so many different types and forms of magic, and every day, someone is trying to discover a new one. It¡¯s simply incredible. ¡ª

    The sphere glowed even brighter, briefly illuminating the desk and casting dancing shadows on the walls. She chuckled softly, almost as if marveling for the hundredth time at what she had just done.

    With a gesture, the sphere dissolved into particles of light, disappearing like magical dust in the air.

    "But this is only the beginning," she murmured, as she continued writing in her diary with the quill held firmly in her fingers. She hadn¡¯t let go of it since the start, as though writing were the only anchor for her scattered thoughts.

    ¡ª As for communicating with others, I managed to speak with Ben... ¡ª

    The quill stopped abruptly, and her golden eyes widened slightly. She quickly erased the name with a brisk motion, her lips pressed in frustration.

    ¡®Alice, you idiot!¡¯ she scolded herself mentally before continuing.

    ¡ª I managed to communicate with Lucian, Seraphina, Alistair, and Diana a few times. ¡ª

    She paused to dip the quill into the ink, her eyes momentarily lost in the soft shimmer of the inkwell¡¯s glass.

    ¡ª We¡¯ve been exchanging letters, sent by messenger pigeons and eagles. ¡ª Her voice was calm, but there was a note of weariness in it, as if the effort of maintaining these communications weighed more heavily than it should.

    ¡ª But I have to be honest: the magical keyboard is incredibly useful. ¡ª

    A faint smile appeared on her lips as the quill resumed its smooth glide over the paper.

    ¡ª Even so, there are still so many missing features¡­ It¡¯s impossible to connect more than two people, which means we can¡¯t all talk at the same time. We need to fix this as soon as possible. ¡ª

    Her fingers gripped the quill a little tighter as she wrote the next words, the concern evident in the slight furrow of her brows.

    ¡ª Now, as for Alexander and Elijah¡­ ¡ª

    The pace of her writing slowed, and her breathing grew a bit deeper, as though she needed to brace herself to continue.

    ¡ª There¡¯s no news from them. I¡¯m really worried. ¡ª

    She let out a long sigh, placing the quill down beside the diary, and rested her forehead in the palm of her hand, gazing out of her bedroom window in quiet contemplation.

 Snaken

    ¡°Damn it, this hurts so much!¡± groaned a childlike voice, trembling with agony and exhaustion. The boy¡¯s hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, while the veins under his skin bulged and pulsed with a faint glow. His small body writhed incessantly, as though trying to escape some invisible torment. His green eyes burned with a mixture of pain and frustration, his thin fingers twitching uncontrollably, unable to find relief.

    The surroundings provided a stark contrast to his suffering. He was in a dungeon that resembled an alchemical laboratory¡ªa fusion of functionality and opulence. Crystals mounted on metal stands emitted a dim amber light that filled the space with an unsettling energy. The illumination cast sinuous shadows on the stone walls, which were intricately carved with coiled serpents and ancient alchemical symbols that seemed to writhe and shift under the flickering glow.

    Shelves of dark, ornately carved wood lined the room, meticulously arranged with flasks and glass tubes. Inside them, vibrant liquids swirled and pulsed, as if imbued with a life of their own. The air was thick with the sharp scent of burnt herbs and something metallic, like oxidized iron, tinged with a faint trace of sulfur.

    The boy, clad in a green robe accented with deep purple, wore a golden bracelet that gleamed in the dim light, matching the rings that adorned his trembling fingers. His clothes were immaculate, a cruel irony given the pitiful state of his body and mind. His straight, disheveled hair clung to his sweat-soaked forehead as his hands quivered, struggling to steady themselves. This was Luca Moretti¡ªnow Elijah V. di Snaken.

    ¡°A new life as a noble of a Grand Duchy¡­¡± he muttered bitterly, his voice laced with resentment. ¡°It was too good to be true. Every luxury comes at a price.¡±

    The chair he sat in was oddly comfortable, as though designed to cushion him from his suffering. But no comfort could mask the true source of his torment. In front of him stood a man of imposing stature, eerily identical to Elijah save for his violet eyes, the marks of age etched into his features, and the pristine state of his appearance. Dressed in a black coat adorned with intricate green and purple accents and wearing finely crafted silver spectacles, the man handled a set of alchemical instruments with surgical precision. His severe expression carried an air of authority, his every movement deliberate and exact.

    ¡°Elijah,¡± the man said, his deep voice reverberating against the stone walls, not once lifting his gaze from his work. ¡°Among my sons, You are the child who resembles me the most. You¡¯re also the most intelligent and capable among them. You deserve to be my successor. But to earn it, you must prove that you are worthy of bearing the name Snaken.¡±

    He paused his work and finally raised his eyes to meet Elijah¡¯s.

    ¡°Alchemy is not merely science, nor magic, nor sacrifice. It is not just accumulated knowledge or raw power.¡± He stepped closer, leaning down to meet the boy¡¯s eyes. His gaze burned with intensity. ¡°Alchemy is life. It is the very essence of creation. Only those who understand this can reach the pinnacle of what it means to be an alchemist.¡±

    Elijah clenched his teeth, forcing himself to push through the pain. Since his arrival in this world and his separation from the others, he had been brought to the Snaken family¡¯s main estate. The place had captivated him immediately. He had fallen in love with the temperate climate, the unique flora and fauna of the Snaken territory, the rivers that snaked through the verdant land, and most of all, the family¡¯s defining principle: Knowledge is power, Power is knowledge, but only Alchemy is life.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The grand laboratory where he now found himself was the beating heart of this legacy. Its walls carried centuries of history, and every tool and apparatus seemed to whisper tales of bold experiments and revolutionary discoveries.

    Elijah bit down hard to suppress the cries of pain threatening to escape. The man¡¯s words echoed in his mind, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from protesting:

    ¡°I... I understand that...¡± Elijah¡¯s voice was low and trembling, yet filled with undeniable resolve. He raised his eyes to meet the man¡¯s, forcing himself to hold his gaze. ¡°But... this is torture! How... how is this supposed to help me understand alchemy?¡±

    He took a deep breath, summoning all the strength he could muster.

    ¡°For three months, you¡¯ve been injecting me with all kinds of poisons, magical beast blood, plant extracts, and components I can¡¯t even begin to identify. This... this is insanity!¡±

    The man let out a faint smile, devoid of warmth, as he removed his silver spectacles and folded them with deliberate care. His expression was a mix of exasperation and restrained pride.

    ¡°Insanity? Perhaps that¡¯s what the ignorant would call it.¡± He stepped back, gesturing to the instruments around them. ¡°But alchemy, Elijah, is not what fools believe it to be. It¡¯s not merely turning lead into gold, as the superstitious claim, nor is it about brewing magical potions, as mages love to simplify it.¡±

    He paused, letting his words sink in, the weight of his conviction pressing down on the boy.

    ¡°Alchemy is far more than that. It is life itself. It is creation and destruction, the constant cycle of transformation. And those who seek the true heights of alchemy must understand that the process does not begin with the world around you.¡±

    His violet eyes locked onto Elijah¡¯s, serious yet burning with an intensity that was almost overwhelming.

    ¡°It begins within you. You must change yourself before you can hope to change the world.¡±

    Elijah was silent, his lips slightly parted as he tried to absorb the weight of those words. His gaze wandered to the shelves, the vials, and finally to his own trembling hands. He had known this world would be unlike anything he understood, and even with the memories he¡¯d inherited, he couldn¡¯t have fully prepared himself. Still, he thought it would all be worth it¡ªafter all, this was a world where magic existed, and as long as he could learn more about alchemy, he would be satisfied.

    But the reality turned out to be far harsher than he¡¯d imagined. The man who called himself his father in this world was willing to subject him to unspeakable torment, all in the name of something greater.

    At that moment, a surge of frustration and resolve boiled within him. Elijah clenched his fists, ignoring the sharp pain the movement caused.

    ¡°You¡¯re insane, old man,¡± he said, his voice low but carrying a newfound ferocity. His green eyes burned with fury. ¡°But mark my words: if I survive this, you¡¯d better think twice before coming near me again.¡±

    For the first time since arriving in this world, Elijah felt a strange power stirring within him. Without realizing it, he began to channel the mana within his body, blending it with the mana of the surrounding environment. A faint aura began to radiate from him, a flickering glow of green and purple hues, swirling and dancing like ethereal flames.

    The man¡¯s eyes narrowed, a spark of intrigue flashing across his face.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he continued to watch the boy. His voice, deep and controlled, carried a mixture of surprise and admiration. ¡°To think a ten-year-old could release killing intent so naturally.¡±

    He stepped closer to Elijah, who, despite the exhaustion and searing pain wracking his body, refused to look away.

    ¡°You really are my son,¡± the man said, an enigmatic smile curving his lips. It was a smile that could just as easily express pride as it could cold calculation, as though Elijah were both a masterpiece to admire and an experiment to be pushed even further.

 The Wind Tells Histories

    Six months had passed since I was abandoned in the Black Forest of Dracknum territory to face the Hunter''s Judgement. Those months had been both a torment and a blessing in disguise¡ªa test that shaped me in ways I could never have imagined. My body had finally made a full recovery, thanks to the Dracknum bloodline coursing through my veins.

    The natural resistance to poison I had inherited, combined with my extraordinary regenerative abilities, allowed severe wounds to heal in a matter of months. Depending on the severity and the individual''s capacity, some could recover in weeks¡ªor even days. What would take a year for a normal human had become little more than a minor hurdle for me.

    Three months ago, the white wolf had declared that I no longer needed to be nursed. It was one of the happiest days of my life¡ªor at least, the life of my bruised pride. Her words were simple, but the weight they lifted off my shoulders was immeasurable.

    ¡ª "Pup, your body is finally strong enough. You no longer need the milk to stay alive."

    I had nearly cried in relief, though I would never admit it.

    At her insistence, I remained with the pack until the trial was complete, a decision that quickly proved to be wise. The pack treated me as one of their own, a bond that came with responsibilities and countless lessons. They taught me what it truly meant to survive.

    I learned how to hunt with precision, moving silently through the forest like a shadow slipping between trees. Every movement of prey was carefully observed before I struck. They taught me to read the signs of nature¡ªthe whisper of the wind, the patterns of tracks on the ground, the nearly imperceptible sounds that could signal either danger or opportunity.

    The white wolf also taught me how to craft basic clothing from the hides and pelts of the animals we hunted. My old clothes were in tatters¡ªmy pants little more than scraps, and my shirt long gone. Now, I wore what remained of my pants, overlaid with a layer of leather made from the bear that had nearly killed me. It resembled the tribal skirts of Earth''s prehistoric people: crude yet functional. Over my torso, I wore another layer of the bear¡¯s pelt, draped across me like a wild mane. It didn¡¯t cover my entire body, but it was enough to shield me from the biting cold.

    For the first time, I discovered the true meaning of community on a primal level. There was a silent bond between the pack members that went beyond words. They hunted together, protected one another, shared their food, and, above all, trusted each other without question. That trust struck something deep within me, something that left an indelible mark.

    The forest, which had once felt oppressive and suffocating, began to transform before my very eyes. I learned to see life in the shadows, to recognize beauty in the way sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dancing patterns on the forest floor. I discovered how silence could be both an ally and an enemy and how patience was an essential virtue for survival.

    My days became a balance of training and living with the pack. Running alongside them, ambushing prey, taking long treks through unfamiliar territory, and private lessons with the white wolf and the small pup. I came to understand that strength wasn¡¯t merely physical¡ªit was mental as well.

    ¡°A true hunter isn¡¯t the one who strikes first,¡± the white wolf had told me once, watching as I failed miserably to chase down a rabbit. ¡°It¡¯s the one who observes and waits for the perfect moment. The one who understands that patience is their greatest weapon.¡±

    Her words echoed in my mind for days, slowly shaping my perspective and, in some ways, my very being.

    During those days, as I walked through the forest alongside a few wolves, I realized how much I had changed. My small body, once frail and unskilled, had become strong and agile, shaped by hardship and relentless training. The pressure of the trial still lingered, always present like a shadow, but amidst it all, a growing sense of accomplishment began to bloom in my chest.

    I was part of the forest now, and it was part of me. Or at least, that¡¯s what I wanted to believe.

    ¡°Pup, focus,¡± the white wolf¡¯s firm voice snapped me out of my thoughts. ¡°In your current state, any predator catching you off guard would kill you in an instant.¡±

    I turned to face her, feeling the weight of her words hit me like a blow. She gestured with one of her paws toward a group of pups playing not far away. They were moving fluidly, their eyes closed, as others tried to touch them. Their movements were instinctive and precise, almost as if they could anticipate every strike before it came.

    ¡°Look at them,¡± the white wolf continued, her golden eyes shining with a mixture of patience and firm expectation.

    ¡°Even the pups have already learned how to connect with nature.¡±

    I sighed, frustration bubbling within me.

    ¡®I¡¯m not a wolf pup¡¯, I thought, my mind scrambling for excuses to downplay my apparent failure.

    As if she could hear my thoughts, the white wolf tilted her head slightly, a glimmer of amusement flashing across her expression.

    "It¡¯s not about being human or wolf, pup," she corrected, her voice echoing like a constant reminder. "It¡¯s about being able to feel."

    "I know, I know," I replied, trying¡ªand failing¡ªto hide my irritation. "I¡¯m supposed to hear the flow of water, feel the sway of the wind, the rustling of leaves¡­ sense the breath of those around me, see without looking, hear without my ears."

    The words tumbled out like a recitation, something I had heard so many times before but still felt frustratingly out of reach.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    "Then why haven¡¯t you managed it yet, pup?" the white wolf shot back, her voice calm yet laced with an unspoken challenge.

    "It¡¯s easier said than done," I muttered, my voice dripping with frustration. It was effortless for them¡ªthey were born here, shaped by this ecosystem, living and breathing the relentless cycle of nature from the very start.

    For them, it was instinctive, something etched into their very being, as if they were born with their "abilities unlocked." And me? I was an outsider, trying to level up in a game they had already mastered.

    The white wolf tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes scrutinizing me.

    "Let¡¯s try again," she said, her tone firm but not devoid of encouragement.

    I sighed, knowing she was right. Complaining wouldn¡¯t get me anywhere. I needed this skill, and I needed it now. The memory of that fateful day when I had been caught off guard by the bear resurfaced, sending a shiver down my spine. Even while poisoned, maybe the outcome would¡¯ve been different if I had sensed the danger sooner.

    I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My mind, usually so restless, needed to calm down.

    ¡®There¡¯s no use resisting¡¯, I thought. I focused on emptying my thoughts, pushing away the noise and distractions.

    Slowly, I began to attune myself to my surroundings. The distant sound of a stream echoed faintly, like a whisper threading through the trees. Above me, the gentle sway of leaves created an almost hypnotic rhythm.

    I felt the light breeze brush against my skin, its movement carrying the earthy scent of the forest¡ªand something else, something alive, something pulsing.

    My breathing slowed, my body gradually relaxing. Yet my mind stayed sharp, as if it were reaching out, searching for something just beyond the immediate grasp of my senses.

    And then, I heard it.

    Footsteps.

    The sound came from behind me¡ªlight, but unmistakable. Instinctively, I ducked, feeling the subtle shift in the air as something shot past above me, swift as an arrow. My ears caught new movements, now on my right and left.

    ¡®They¡¯re fast¡¯, I thought, the heat of adrenaline surging through my veins. Wasting no time, I murmured: ¡ª  ¡°Breeze.¡± ¡ª

    The magic answered, channeling the wind beneath my feet. The momentum launched me into the air, away from my previous position. A loud impact sounded below me, followed by the rustling of leaves.

    As I landed, a cocky grin spread across my lips. ¡®Too easy.¡¯

    But before I could savor my small victory, a shadow loomed over me.

    Something struck the top of my head with enough force to send me crashing to the ground. The cold, damp earth greeted me harshly, the pain radiating through my skull and snuffing out my arrogance in an instant.

    The white wolf¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, calm but tinged with reproach.

    ¡°Never underestimate your surroundings, pup.¡±

    I swallowed hard, the sting of her words matching the ache in my head. But she wasn¡¯t done.

    ¡°You¡¯ve relied too much on your sight. You overcame that, but now you lean too heavily on your hearing.¡±

    Her tone softened slightly, though it still carried the weight of authority.

    ¡°Feel the changes¡ªnot just in the sounds around you. Notice the subtle scents, the slightest shifts in the wind.¡±

    There was a pause, almost as if she were waiting for me to absorb the lesson before delivering her final words:

    ¡°The wind tells many stories, pup, but it¡¯s up to us to decide whether we listen.¡±

    Her words echoed in my mind, cryptic and thought-provoking. A wave of confusion washed over me.

    ¡®That sounds like something straight out of a martial arts manga¡¯, I thought, my mind wandering for a moment.

    But before I could delve deeper into her meaning, something drew my attention.

    The sound of soft, deliberate footsteps approached, accompanied by the distinct rustling of leaves.

    Dr. Wolf emerged from the vegetation, his steps steady but the sight was almost comical: he carried a long vine in his mouth, wide and flat, resembling a makeshift blindfold.

    ¡°From now on, pup, you will remain blindfolded until you learn to connect with nature,¡± declared the white wolf, her voice calm yet firm, leaving no room for argument.

    ¡°What?!¡± My voice rang out across the clearing, filled with disbelief. ¡°But¡­ we¡¯re wandering through the Black Forest!¡±

    My exclamation echoed in the air, blending with the rustling leaves above.

    For the past three months, ever since I¡¯d fully recovered, I¡¯d been trekking through the forest alongside the pack. They were migrating south, and I had been tirelessly searching for the family insignia to complete my trial. The journey was relentless, exhausting, and even with my eyes open, the forest seemed determined to test me at every turn.

    I recalled all the times I¡¯d tripped over exposed roots or stumbled onto rocks hidden beneath the moss, crashing awkwardly onto the cold, damp ground. Low branches had left scratches across my skin, and once, out of sheer distraction, I had nearly walked off a cliff¡ªonly to be saved by one of the wolves, who clamped its teeth onto the remnants of my shirt and yanked me back to safety.

    And now, she wanted me to do all of that¡­ blindfolded.

    ¡°This is madness!¡± I exclaimed, throwing up my hands in frustration, as if the gesture might somehow convince the white wolf of the absurdity of her idea.

    She, however, remained entirely unfazed. Perched majestically atop a moss-covered stone, her golden eyes locked onto mine with an infuriating calm. One of the pups darted around her, tugging playfully at her tail, but she didn¡¯t even glance away from me.

    ¡°The forest isn¡¯t your enemy, pup,¡± she said, tilting her head slightly, as if explaining something to a stubborn child.

    ¡°It¡¯s your perception of it that needs to change. With your eyes open, you rely only on what you see, ignoring what you hear, feel, or smell. That makes you vulnerable.¡±

    Dr. Wolf, standing nearby, stepped forward with the vine still in his mouth. His gaze carried a faintly amused glint as the vine swayed gently in the breeze.

    ¡®I give up¡¯, I thought, letting out a heavy sigh of resignation. ¡®There¡¯s no convincing her. At least they¡¯ll protect me.¡¯

    I took the vine from his jaws and, with hesitant fingers, began tying it around my eyes. The rough texture of the plant scraped against my skin, and the sudden loss of vision was disorienting, as though the entire world had shrunk around me. Darkness closed in completely.

    I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of fear and resignation mingling in my mouth. Deep down, I knew she was right. The forest didn¡¯t forgive weakness.

    Taking a deep breath, I tried to steady my racing heart.

    ¡®If I¡¯m going to do this, I¡¯d better start now,¡¯ I thought, adjusting my posture and focusing on ignoring the oppressive sensation of forced darkness.

 In the Footsteps of Darkness

    Crunch-crunch, crunch-crunch, crunch-crunch.

    Huuuh-sshhh, huuuh-sshhh.

    The constant sound of footsteps crushing dry leaves and the rhythm of my breathing were like an unrelenting drumbeat in my ears. For days my vision was completely blocked¡ªdarkness was all I could ¡°see.¡± I focused on every sound, every scent, any subtle shift in my surroundings. Even so, it was impossible to remain 100% alert the whole time.

    Sometimes, my mind wandered, and in those brief moments of distraction, even the simplest noises¡ªmy own breathing or the rhythmic steps of the wolves beside me¡ªbecame almost deafening. It was as if, without my sight, my other senses amplified everything around me, though not in a way I¡¯d expected.

    ¡°Ow!¡± I cried out instinctively as my arm scraped hard against a low-hanging branch. The rough, cutting sensation on my skin jolted me back to the present moment.

    ¡°Pup,¡± I heard the familiar voice of the white wolf echo in my mind, her tone carrying a blend of impatience and encouragement.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let your focus slip. Everything has a scent, a sound, before you can see or touch it. Feel them. The forest won¡¯t forgive carelessness.¡±

    I muttered under my breath, clutching my scraped arm as warmth and a dull pain pulsed where the branch had struck. ¡°If only I could just use my sight¡­¡±

    ¡°Exactly that¡¯s why it¡¯s been taken from you,¡± she replied immediately, as though plucking the thought straight from my mind.

    ¡°You need to stop thinking like a human who sees and start thinking like a being who feels.¡±

    I sighed and tried to refocus. I adjusted my stance and started moving again, this time more cautiously. I could feel the breeze on my skin, the damp scent of the earth, even the faint smell of the wolves around me.

    ¡®Come on, Dalton,¡¯ I thought to myself, more determined now. ¡®If they can do it, so can I.¡¯

    With deliberate care, I reached out until I felt the texture of a tree branch within reach. I gripped it, tested its weight, and gave it a slight shake to check its strength.

    ¡°Not this one,¡± I murmured, discarding it right away.

    I kept moving, each step deliberate and controlled, trying to avoid any more scrapes or stumbles that would only add to my frustration. I found another branch.

    ¡°Not this one either.¡±

    I repeated the process several times as we walked, each attempt accompanied by a frustrated murmur or a heavy sigh as I tried to ignore the sting of the small cuts and scratches on my arms.

    Finally, my fingers touched something promising.

    ¡°This one¡¯ll do,¡± I muttered, a faint note of satisfaction slipping into my voice. I pressed down firmly on a spot on the branch, testing its flexibility before gripping it with both hands and applying pressure. The snap echoed as it broke cleanly in my grasp.

    Without wasting a moment, I focused, drawing mana from the earth around me.

    ¡ª ¡°Harden¡± ¡ª  I whispered, channeling magic into the branch. I felt it transform in my hands, becoming sturdier, more resilient, more reliable. A small smile crept across my lips as I swung the branch lightly through the air, testing its strength and durability.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± I murmured to myself, spinning it lightly between my fingers before gripping it firmly. It was long enough to serve as a guiding staff, an extension of my body that would help me navigate through this forced darkness.

    <hr>

    ¡°We¡¯ll stop here for the night,¡± declared the white wolf, her voice carrying an air of finality.

    I couldn¡¯t see her, but I felt the weight of exhaustion settling heavily on my shoulders¡ªa clear sign that it was already late. We had been walking for hours, and my body was crying out for rest.

    As I settled down, the presence of the wolves surrounding me brought a sense of security. The soothing sound of a nearby waterfall reached my ears, its cascading water blending harmoniously with the rustling of leaves in the wind and the occasional distant howl of a packmate.

    The breeze carried a fresh, clean scent mixed with the earthy aroma of the forest. I reached out to touch the ground around me, feeling the soft, cool moss beneath my fingers. Carefully, I sat down, leaning my weight onto the newly transformed staff.

    ¡°This¡¯ll do for now,¡± I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. The darkness behind my blindfold no longer felt as oppressive as it had before, and the tranquility of the moment began to ease the tension I had been holding onto.

    As the wolves settled around me, the rhythmic sound of paws moving through grass reached my ears¡ªmeasured and calm. I felt the warmth of a small body pressing against my leg. The golden-eyed pup had curled up there, just as he often did. A soft smile found its way to my lips as my hand instinctively reached out, stroking his soft fur in a gesture that was automatic, almost subconscious.

    ¡°Always you, isn¡¯t it?¡± I murmured, my voice low, as if I were speaking to an old friend.

    But before I could settle completely, a different warmth¡ªlarger, firmer¡ªpressed against my back. Something soft and warm encircled me, providing unexpected support.

    ¡°You too?¡± I asked, though I already knew who it was. The presence was unmistakable: Dr. Wolf, the largest wolf in the pack, second only to the white wolf. His weight and warmth were as familiar as they were reassuring. He was my guide wolf, the one who stayed by my side while I wore the blindfold.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Dr. Wolf let out a low sound, almost a growl, but there was no menace in it.

    I exhaled deeply, allowing my body to relax as I leaned back against him. The texture of his fur was soft and warm, an almost indescribable comfort that felt as though it seeped straight into my bones.

    ¡°I could get used to this,¡± I murmured, my voice barely audible, swallowed by the peacefulness surrounding me.

    The pup by my leg let out a soft noise, a satisfied little sigh, before settling deeper against me. In the distance, the occasional howls of the other wolves echoed through the forest, mingling with the steady rush of water from the nearby waterfall.

    Despite the trials still waiting for me, a deep sense of belonging began to take root. I didn¡¯t know how this test would end, but the path ahead no longer felt as lonely as I once thought it would be.

    <hr>

    The night in the Black Forest was suffocating, cloaked in a darkness so thick it almost felt alive. The air carried the damp scent of earth and decay, and the wind seemed hesitant to pass through the ancient trees, as if it feared the secrets they held.

    ¡°Are you certain this is the last spot?¡± The man¡¯s low, drawling voice cut through the silence like a blade. He was leaning casually against a gnarled tree, his black hood concealing most of his face. But not enough to hide his marble-pale skin or the blood-red eyes that gleamed with an eerie, otherworldly light.

    His posture seemed relaxed, but the atmosphere around him pulsed with an oppressive, unspoken power.

    ¡°Y-y-yes! D-don¡¯t worry!¡± The boy stammered, his voice trembling with fear. He struggled to maintain his balance as he clutched a small, rolled-up parchment in his bony, shaking hands. His grip was so tight it seemed as though he feared the object might vanish if he loosened it even slightly.

    His golden eyes, which might have been charming under different circumstances, now seemed dimmed under the crushing weight of pressure. He was thin, almost frail, and his disheveled black hair appeared even messier under the pale moonlight. The contrast in presence between the two figures was stark, almost cruel.

    ¡°My brother said there are only four points to form the first layer of the seal,¡± he continued, speaking quickly, as if hoping his words might diffuse the growing tension. ¡°We¡¯ve already dealt with the other three... only this one is left.¡±

    His nervousness was palpable. The way he avoided looking directly at the man made it clear he knew exactly what kind of monster he was dealing with.

    The man let out a low sound¡ªsomething between a chuckle and a scoff¡ªbut it held no trace of humor. He tilted his head slightly upward, revealing more of his severe, almost otherworldly features.

    ¡°¡®We¡¯ve dealt with them?¡¯¡± he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Every word felt heavier than the last.

    Before the boy could answer, an oppressive wave of killing intent radiated from the man. It wasn¡¯t just a sense of danger¡ªit was as if he were being smothered by pure terror. The boy stumbled backward, nearly collapsing, his legs visibly trembling as he struggled to catch his breath.

    ¡°You talk as if you¡¯ve done more than shake like a leaf in the wind,¡± the man said, his tone sharp enough to cut.

    ¡°F-forgive me!¡± the boy stammered, bowing deeply in a frantic, desperate gesture.

    ¡°Your Excellency handled the other three points.¡±

    The forest around them seemed to respond to the tension. The leaves rustled uneasily, though there was no wind. Faint, indistinct sounds echoed from the shadows, as if the darkness itself was alive.

    ¡°Darius, stop tormenting the boy,¡± a deep, almost guttural voice echoed from the shadows. The sound momentarily shattered the oppressive atmosphere. The boy turned toward the source, his golden eyes shining with a mix of hope and fear.

    From the depths of the forest, heavy footsteps approached, accompanied by the rustling of bushes being pushed aside. A towering man emerged, each step solid enough to make the ground beneath him tremble slightly. He wore no hood, revealing long, unkempt hair and a full beard that stretched down to his neck. His arms, covered in thick, dark hair, were as muscular as the tree trunks around them.

    His deep black eyes locked onto Darius¡¯s blood-red ones. There was something feral in his stance, a primal energy barely restrained beneath the surface. Yet despite this raw presence, he radiated a strange calm, as though the forest itself bent to his will.

    ¡°Never late, are you, Warwick?¡± Darius remarked, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the man. His tone carried a hint of sarcasm but also a subtle undercurrent of respect.

    ¡°Unlike you, Darius, I understand the importance of being punctual¡ªespecially when dealing with¡­ delicate matters.¡± Warwick let out a low sound, a cross between a chuckle and a growl.

    Warwick stepped forward, his heavy boots sinking slightly into the damp forest floor. In one swift, deliberate motion, he hurled something into the space between himself and Darius.

    The boy, who had been watching their exchange nervously, barely had time to react.

    ¡°What?!¡± he gasped, throwing himself to the side in a clumsy roll to avoid the object that sailed past his shoulder.

    The dull thud of impact echoed through the clearing as the object hit the ground and rolled several times before coming to a stop. Wide-eyed, the boy stared at it, his stomach churning as the realization hit him.

    It was a body.

    The pale face of a man wearing the crest of the Dracknum family on his leather armor reflected faintly in the moonlight. His lifeless eyes stared blankly into the distance, frozen in the terror of his final moments. His limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, as though they¡¯d been broken deliberately, and a pool of blood was slowly spreading beneath him, staining the dark forest floor.

    ¡°You killed a Dracknum guard?!¡± Darius¡¯s voice erupted, a mix of disbelief and fury. He stepped forward, his expression seething with anger as a vein pulsed visibly on his temple.

    ¡°Are you insane?!¡±

    Warwick crossed his arms, his gaze steady and unbothered as he replied in a dry tone:

    ¡°He saw me while I was planting the items.¡± He shrugged, as if that explanation alone justified everything.

    ¡°Those types like to stick their noses where they don¡¯t belong.¡±

    Darius clenched his fists, visibly struggling to keep his composure.

    ¡°What part of ¡®stealth¡¯ don¡¯t you understand?!¡± he barked, gesturing sharply at the lifeless body on the ground, his face contorted with frustration.

    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, Warwick! This is going to draw attention to us. If someone finds that body before we¡¯re finished¡­¡±

    Warwick interrupted, his voice deep but steady: ¡°I had no other choice.¡±

    The air between the two men seemed charged with electricity, the tension rising with each passing second. The boy, still on the ground, tried to inch away from the body, but his movements were stiff, the grotesque sight burned into his mind.

    ¡°Tsk,¡± Darius hissed, abruptly turning away, his crimson eyes glowing in the moonlight. He took a deep breath, clearly irritated but trying to maintain his composure.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do about it now. Let¡¯s move quickly and get out of here before this turns into a bigger problem.¡±

    He turned to the boy, pointing at him with a sharp, impatient gesture. ¡°Boy, begin.¡±

    The boy hesitated for a moment, but as he felt the piercing gaze of Darius and the overwhelming presence of Warwick, he swallowed hard, mustering every ounce of courage he had. With trembling hands, he got to his feet and unrolled the parchment in his grasp.

 Blood Moon

    "I can''t sleep."

    It was strange, almost unsettling. My body was exhausted, my eyelids heavy as if begging to give in to gravity, and the environment around me was perfect for rest. I was cocooned in warmth, the heat of Dr. Wolf at my back and the wolf pup curled against my leg providing a comfort that felt almost primal. But the restlessness in my mind refused to let sleep come.

    "Come on, it''s been hours," I murmured to myself, trying, in vain, to find some peace. Even with the blindfold still securely tied over my eyes, the fatigue seemed to seep into my very skin, layer upon layer.

    The small pup pressed against my leg let out a faint whimper, almost like a purr. I couldn¡¯t help but smile faintly, noticing how content it seemed.

    "Must be having a lovely dream," I said softly, trying to distract myself, tilting my face upward toward the sky I couldn¡¯t see.

    And then, I felt Dr. Wolf stir. The movement was so sudden and abrupt that it caused the blindfold over my eyes to shift slightly, letting a sliver of light pierce through to my right eye. The faint glow slipped through the gap.

    "I must be imagining things," I muttered, raising my right hand to adjust the blindfold back into place. But as I did, I rubbed my eyes, and something strange caught my attention.

    My breath hitched.

    "This can''t be real."

    Hesitating, my fingers moved to my cheek, pinching it hard. The pain was sharp, as real and vivid as the sight before me.

    "Shit... there are two moons in the sky!"

    My voice echoed through the clearing, tinged with disbelief and rising panic.

    High above, beyond the distant mountains, two moons hung in the night. One was familiar¡ªthe same pale white orb, sometimes tinged silver, sometimes with a faint golden hue, that always appeared when the sun set. But beside it was another... a moon blazing red, as vivid as fresh blood.

    A chill ran through my veins.

    In a burst of motion, I sprang to my feet, letting the blindfold slip down to my neck. I scooped the pup into my arms, holding it carefully yet firmly.

    "Wake up, everyone! Wake up!"

    My voice carried a desperation I couldn¡¯t suppress.

    Dr. Wolf was the first to react, rising swiftly, his movements sharp and protective. His eyes gleamed as they scanned the forest around us, as if searching for an unseen threat.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, pup?¡± The white wolf¡¯s voice resonated in my mind, groggy but tinged with concern. She rose slowly, her weight pressing against the ground, causing a soft rustling of leaves.

    "The... the moon!" I stammered, my wide eyes locking onto hers before I pointed to the sky.

    Her golden gaze followed my gesture.

    I turned my attention back to the heavens, and the sight of the red moon sent another wave of dread washing over me. Something had changed. The moon¡¯s intense crimson glow seemed to waver, almost alive¡­ or in pain.

    "The moon is... bleeding," I murmured, my voice shaking.

    The red moon was no longer just red. It looked wounded. A dark, jagged line snaked across its surface like a deep gash, and a pulsating red light flickered along the scar. It seemed as though something was leaking out of it, slowly spilling into the sky and staining the stars around it.

    The white wolf didn¡¯t respond immediately. Her head tilted slightly, her golden eyes locked onto the unsettling sight with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

    ¡°Pup,¡± she finally said, her voice low but laced with a weight I had never heard before. ¡°This is not natural.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I replied, my tone almost pleading.

    The pup in my arms stirred, letting out a small sound before curling closer to me, blissfully unaware of the tension around it.

    Dr. Wolf let out a low growl, the deep rumble vibrating like distant thunder. His gaze was fixed on some unseen point beyond the trees, as though sensing something I couldn¡¯t.

    The white wolf lifted her head, inhaling deeply. Her posture shifted, her body tense and coiled as if ready for whatever was approaching.

    ¡°Pup,¡± she said again, her voice firm and steady, yet carrying an edge of urgency. ¡°Something is coming.¡±

    <hr>

    In the Archduchy of Dracknum, within the grand Main Mansion of the family, a servant sprinted through the vast, ornate corridors with every ounce of strength he had.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "Shit, shit, shit!" he muttered through clenched teeth, his heavy boots echoing against the polished marble floors.

    The mansion was colossal, its corridors stretching endlessly, and he had been running non-stop for several minutes. His legs trembled, his chest burned, but stopping was not an option. He stumbled over a small rug but barely had time to curse before pushing forward again.

    Other servants he passed stared at him, their expressions a mix of confusion and worry. Some even tried to stop him.

    "Hey! What do you think you¡¯re doing?!"

    But he barreled past them without a second glance, his shoulders brushing against theirs as he charged forward, driven by a single thought: ¡®I must reach the Patriarch.¡¯

    His green eyes were wide with terror and urgency, gleaming as though on the brink of tears. His heart thundered in his chest, and a fear unlike anything he had ever known gripped him, so raw it made his hands tremble and his mouth dry.

    ¡°Huff, huff, huff!¡±

    At last, after what felt like an eternity of steps, he reached an imposing black wooden door adorned with intricate carvings of dragons. Just standing before it brought a brief moment of relief to his pounding heart.

    ¡®Finally,¡¯ he thought, drawing a deep breath to gather what strength he had left.

    With both hands, he shoved the heavy door open.

    Thud!

    The room beyond was vast and regal, bathed in the golden glow of suspended candelabras. Shelves filled with ancient books lined the walls, and a long table of dark oak dominated the center, strewn with maps and documents.

    Standing near the table was the Patriarch of the Dracknum Family, Thomas Thaddeus The Dracknum. He was an imposing man, his golden eyes radiating an almost otherworldly calm. His very presence commanded the space.

    Beside him stood Luminus Dracknum. His sharp features and equally golden eyes, younger but no less piercing, were focused intently on the maps before him, his posture betraying an analytical intensity.

    At the sound of the door slamming, Luminus turned abruptly, his expression cold and unyielding.

    "Who dares interrupt so rudely?!" His voice sliced through the air like a blade, but before he could say more, the servant burst out desperately:

    "Forgive my intrusion, but this is an emergency, Patriarch!"

    The words were nearly choked out in a panicked shout, and the servant barely paused before continuing.

    "Someone has broken through the first layer of the seal... of the Black Forest!"

    For a moment, the air in the room seemed to freeze. Thomas raised an eyebrow, his expression remaining stoic, though his golden eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity.

    Luminus, however, couldn¡¯t conceal his reaction. A mix of shock and concern flashed across his face, his fists clenching at his sides.

    "What?!" His voice came out louder than intended, betraying the composure he always worked so hard to maintain.

    The servant took a deep breath, struggling to organize his chaotic thoughts into coherent words.

    "Patriarch," he began, his voice trembling as sweat trickled down his brow. "The young masters are in danger."

    "Th-they... we... we must cancel the forest trial!"

    Thomas remained silent, though his golden eyes narrowed slightly, as if calculating every possible scenario and response.

    "And... and..." The servant¡¯s voice faltered, but he forced the words out, as though his very life depended on it.

    "The... the Blood Moon... has descended over the entire Black Forest. A-and... there¡¯s a chance... the seal of the Demon Forest might break!"

    Luminus stepped forward, his golden eyes now glowing with a fierce intensity. His previously restrained expression now showed a blend of disbelief and fury.

    "Who would dare such audacity?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his hands clenching into tight fists.

    Thomas, however, remained motionless, his posture rigid and his gaze unwavering. When he finally broke the silence, his deep voice echoed through the room, each word laden with an authority that seemed to suffocate the air around them.

    "There will be no cancellation."

    Thomas¡¯s calm, unshakable tone reverberated through the walls like restrained thunder, catching the two men before him by surprise.

    Luminus furrowed his brow, stunned by the Patriarch¡¯s apparent indifference, while the servant, still sweating profusely, struggled to suppress a gasp of disbelief.

    Thomas turned his golden gaze to Luminus, his expression firm and unyielding. There was no need for spoken orders; his intentions were clear in his stare.

    ¡°Prepare yourself. We¡¯re heading to the forest.¡±

    The servant, still trembling with nerves, stepped forward, attempting to argue.

    ¡°The forest is enormous, Patriarch! Just two people won¡¯t be able to cover it all!¡± he exclaimed, his voice tinged with desperation.

    Thomas remained unperturbed, as if the servant¡¯s anxiety was beneath his notice.

    ¡°We won¡¯t be alone,¡± he replied, his voice calm yet commanding. He looked back at Luminus, his piercing gaze making it clear that he expected answers.

    ¡°Luminus, who is responsible for the southern sector of the forest?¡±

    Luminus hesitated momentarily, his mind instinctively turning to the one individual who stood out to him, aside from Cesar and the Third Child: ¡®Alexander. That¡¯s the area where he is¡­¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s Israel,¡± he finally answered, his tone measured and careful.

    Thomas nodded slightly, as though confirming something he had already surmised.

    ¡°Then we need not concern ourselves with that sector.¡±

    He shifted his attention back to the servant, who looked even more bewildered and apprehensive.

    ¡°Send word to the others overseeing the trial zones. Their top priority is handling the anomaly. If the children are left alone, they must learn to fend for themselves. They carry the Dracknum bloodline, after all.¡±

    A heavy pause followed, Thomas¡¯s words hanging in the air like a weight pressing down on the room.

    Luminus straightened, fully grasping the implied meaning: the children were on their own, and their survival would serve as their test of strength.

    ¡°Luminus,¡± Thomas continued, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me to the border of the Demon Forest.¡±

    Luminus¡¯s golden eyes narrowed slightly. He knew this was the most dangerous area¡ªthe likeliest target of the intruders and the heart of the anomaly. Despite the danger, he gave a resolute nod, his determination solidifying.

    ¡°Yes, Patriarch.¡±

 Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

    Aldred Ironvale was a boy who, by most ordinary standards, would never have faced much adversity in life. He was friendly, generous, and his kindness earned him the favor of everyone around him¡ªfrom his training peers to the servants working within the modest estate of his family. His strong, sturdy build was unusual for someone his age, and despite his unremarkable appearance¡ªlight brown hair and dull green eyes¡ªhe stood out thanks to his ability to forge connections effortlessly.

    But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Born on the farthest branch of the illustrious Dracknum family¡¯s collateral line, Aldred had never felt the weight of the surname he lacked. He was the fourth son of a baron teetering on the brink of ruin, whose title carried more weight on parchment than in gold or land. His mother, though technically his father¡¯s primary wife, was nothing more than a former servant.

    From a young age, Aldred understood that his future held no promise of greatness. He had no inheritance to hope for, and the options left to him were bleak. Becoming a merchant meant abandoning what little comfort he still possessed; life as a mercenary offered only danger and instability. Becoming a knight was an option, but even that meant fighting tooth and nail for recognition in a world where bloodlines mattered more than strength.

    That left only one path: the Hunter¡¯s Judgment. The challenge was brutal in its simplicity¡ªsurvive in the Black Forest, retrieve the Dracknum family insignia, and prove his worth. For Aldred, it was the sole opportunity to claim the name that had been denied to him and perhaps, just perhaps, carve out a place for himself among the Dracknum.

    He embraced the challenge with unyielding determination. No matter how unfair or perilous, he would face the judgment head-on. But fate, once again, proved itself merciless.

    Eight months had passed since Aldred entered the Black Forest. Survival had been a relentless battle¡ªhunger, injuries, and natural predators were his daily adversaries. Yet, he¡¯d adapted. He had learned to hunt, to evade obvious dangers, and even to use the forest itself to his advantage.

    But the real struggle was the insignia. No matter how thoroughly he searched, no matter how tirelessly he scoured every inch of the forest, it continued to elude him. And now, something had shifted.

    The forest felt different. It was as if an invisible shadow had settled over it, making everything unnervingly still, suffocatingly heavy. The wind, which once carried the earthy scent of leaves and damp soil, now bore a metallic tang that clung to the air.

    Deep within the caverns, where Aldred sat beside a small makeshift fire, he scanned his surroundings warily. His muscles were taut, his senses heightened as every faint sound seemed to echo louder in the oppressive silence of the night. He didn¡¯t know what had changed, but he knew, without a doubt, that something was very wrong.

    ¡°Damn it¡­¡± muttered Aldred, rubbing his small but calloused hands over his face, the scars of months of survival etched into his skin. His words were swallowed by the muffled echoes of the cave. ¡°This forest has been trying to kill me since the day I set foot in it, but now it feels like even it wants to run away.¡±

    Before he could dwell further on his predicament, a violent rumble reverberated through the cavern.

    BOOM!

    The ceiling trembled, followed by an explosion that sent dust and chunks of stone raining down. Aldred instinctively threw himself to the ground, shielding his head with his arms as a thick, choking cloud of smoke enveloped the space.

    His heart pounded against his chest as he coughed violently, trying to clear his lungs of the heavy air. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± he asked himself, his voice shaky and low.

    As the dust began to settle, Aldred slowly pushed himself to his feet, his knees trembling slightly beneath him. In his hands, he gripped the improvised spear that had become his trusted companion in the forest. Crafted from a sturdy vine, a branch of the toughest tree he could find, and a crude stone blade, the weapon was the result of weeks of trial and error. He had shattered countless stones in frustration before finally managing to sharpen one to his satisfaction.

    With cautious, deliberate steps, Aldred approached the source of the explosion, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, but his small hands, hardened by survival, held the spear firmly.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t normal¡­ definitely not normal¡­¡± he whispered under his breath, as if trying to silence the voice in his mind conjuring worst-case scenarios.

    The smoke began to take on a reddish hue as it thinned, a sight that made Aldred swallow hard. ¡°What the hell is that now?¡± he muttered, his pulse racing even faster.

    At last, he reached the epicenter of the chaos. What he saw left him frozen in place, his mouth slightly agape: a massive hole in the ceiling of the cave, through which the night sky loomed. Two moons shone brightly overhead.

    One of them was familiar, its silvery glow casting a gentle light over the forest. But the other...

    ¡°This... this is impossible,¡± Aldred stammered, his wide eyes fixed on the second moon. It glowed a deep, blood-red hue, its ominous light flooding the cave in a sinister shade.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    A shiver ran down his spine, the icy grip of fear seizing him. It didn¡¯t make sense¡ªnone of this made sense.

    ¡°Two moons?!¡± he exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief as he momentarily forgot the lurking danger.

    Before Aldred could fully process what was happening, a sound sliced through the air¡ªa whisper, a quick movement, something coming from above.

    ¡°What?!¡± was all he managed to say before something¡ªor someone¡ªcame crashing through the hole above, landing directly on him.

    The impact was overwhelming. Aldred cried out in surprise as his small body was slammed into the ground, his makeshift spear flying from his grasp. He groaned in pain, feeling the weight pinning him down while he struggled to regain his bearings.

    ¡°W-who¡­?!¡± he tried to ask, but his voice was weak, muffled by the confusion and the throbbing ache in his chest.

    Something stirred above him, and through the lingering dust, Aldred caught a glimpse of a human figure. It was a child, like him, but there was something profoundly unsettling about the sight.

    As the dust began to clear, the crimson light of the blood moon illuminated the scene. It was the body of a girl. Her face was marred by a savage claw mark, a horrifying gash that left a grotesque trail across her features. The blood crusted along the edges of the wound looked freshly wet under the moon¡¯s eerie glow. Her eyes were half-open, lifeless, and one arm hung at an unnatural angle.

    It was clear she had been killed in a single, brutal strike.

    ¡°AHHH!¡±

    The scream tore from Aldred¡¯s lips before he could stop himself. He scrambled backward, his breath hitching in pure terror as he distanced himself from the corpse as though it might suddenly spring to life.

    His heart pounded so violently that it echoed in his ears, drowning out all other sounds. ¡°This... this can¡¯t be real!¡± he stammered, his voice trembling as his mind raced in blind panic.

    ¡°I have to get out of here! Now!¡± he cried, his voice cracking as his eyes darted around, searching frantically for an escape.

    But before he could move, two more bodies fell through the hole in the cave¡¯s ceiling. Aldred froze, every instinct screaming at him to run, but something rooted him in place.

    These figures, however, were alive.

    ¡ª ¡°Featherfall!¡± ¡ª  shouted one of the children as they descended, their voice clear and commanding.

    Aldred squinted, trying to make out the details through the dim, red-tinged light. One of the newcomers wore a necklace with a glowing green gemstone at its center, its light pulsing softly as if alive.

    As soon as the words left her lips, the glow of the gemstone faded, and the cave was once again plunged into shadow, lit only by the ominous red light filtering through the hole above.

    "Hilda!" The girl with the necklace repeated, her voice trembling now, a mixture of urgency and despair lacing her tone.

    Her gaze locked onto the lifeless body on the ground, and Aldred could see the shift in her expression. The confidence she had exuded moments ago evaporated, replaced by pure shock and a complicated swirl of sadness and guilt. She didn¡¯t say another word, but her grip on the necklace tightened until her knuckles turned white.

    Still stunned, Aldred pointed his crude spear at them, his eyes wide, his breathing uneven.

    ¡°W... who are you?¡± His voice was firm but carried an undertone of fear.

    He studied them quickly. The differences between them were glaring. While Aldred wielded a rudimentary spear cobbled together from branches and sharp stones, clad only in the tattered remains of trousers that barely covered his scarred legs, the two newcomers were practically untouched.

    Their clothes, though slightly torn, were clearly made from fine materials, exuding a kind of sophistication Aldred couldn¡¯t comprehend. They carried themselves with an aura of confidence, even urgency, that made him feel small and out of place.

    But they ignored him.

    ¡°Damn it, we need to leave¡ªnow!¡± growled the boy with golden eyes, his tone low and commanding. ¡°That thing can probably smell the blood¡ªor track us through it!¡±

    Aldred narrowed his eyes, his instincts screaming that something was deeply wrong. He repeated his question, louder this time:

    ¡°Who are you?!¡±

    But once again, they didn¡¯t answer.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± the girl muttered in agreement with the boy. Without hesitation, both of them began to sprint toward the cave¡¯s exit.

    Just before disappearing into the shadows, the girl cast one final glance over her shoulder. Her golden eyes locked with Aldred¡¯s.

    ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d leave now. The blood moon has descended upon us.¡±

    Aldred stood frozen, his heart pounding as he stared into the darkness that had swallowed them. The girl¡¯s words echoed in his mind like a sinister omen:

    ¡®The blood moon has descended upon us.¡¯

    He glanced at the girl¡¯s lifeless body lying on the ground, the claw marks across her face making her frozen expression all the more haunting. A chill ran down his spine, and he felt cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

    ¡®I don¡¯t know what this is, and that¡¯s exactly why I need to get out of here¡¯, he thought, gripping his makeshift spear tightly.

    The cavern seemed to breathe around him, the sounds of dripping water and faint echoes amplifying the growing tension. Aldred took a step back, his heart pounding erratically. He knew he had to act fast.

    But before he could turn to flee, the ground beneath him trembled faintly. A strange sound¡ªa mix between a muffled roar and a distant wail¡ªreverberated through the walls. The red moonlight streaming through the hole above seemed to grow stronger, bathing the space in a sinister glow.

    Suddenly, a massive shadow descended through the hole, moving too quickly for Aldred to react. He barely had time to raise his spear before an overwhelming force slammed into him, pinning him to the ground.

    The last thing he saw was a pair of glowing yellow eyes piercing the darkness, accompanied by a deafening roar that drowned out all other sound. Then, his vision faded into black.

    Silence returned to the cave, broken only by the steady drip of water and the faint rustling of leaves in the distant forest.

 On the Route of Chaos (1)

    The two golden-eyed children emerged from the cavern into the pale, oppressive light of the twin moons hanging in the sky. The air was heavy, thick with the unmistakable metallic scent of blood. But instead of slowing them down, it only pushed them to run faster.

    After a few seconds of sprinting away from the cave, Oswin, the sharp-eyed boy with golden irises, briefly wrinkled his nose.

    "Gloria, I smell blood," he said, his voice low but steady. Since childhood, his heightened sense of smell had been a source of fascination and respect. It was an innate trait of the Dracknum bloodline, but even among his kin, his sensitivity was exceptional.

    Gloria, the girl with a focused expression and impeccably kept hair, tightened her grip on the pendant resting against her chest. Her mind quickly tied Oswin¡¯s observation back to the scene they had left behind.

    "That boy..." she murmured, a faint trace of hesitation creeping into her voice.

    Oswin exhaled sharply, shaking his head in disbelief.

    "He was just a nobody from a collateral branch," he remarked indifferently, his tone cutting and almost cruel. His golden eyes gleamed coldly under the crimson glow of the blood moon.

    "Hilda¡ªyes, her loss matters. She could use basic magic. Him? Just a fool who would¡¯ve died either way."

    Gloria shot him a quick glance but remained silent. Her fingers still clutched the pendant tightly, as if searching for reassurance.

    The scent of blood in the air seemed to intensify, another unwelcome reminder to keep moving.

    They ran with all their strength, their steps swift and deliberate. But for a fleeting moment, Gloria glanced over her shoulder, back toward the cavern. A sense of something lost, something unsaid, weighed heavily on her.

    "Maybe..." she started, but the words dissolved before she could finish.

    Oswin, catching her hesitation, raised an eyebrow.

    "Come on, Gloria. There¡¯s no time for regrets."

    She nodded, though the unease inside her refused to settle.

    <hr>

    An hour earlier, on the other side of the forest:

    "Child," the white wolf¡¯s voice resonated in my mind, firm and commanding. But this time, there was something I rarely heard in her tone¡ªnervousness.

    "Something is coming."

    I swallowed hard, feeling a shiver run down my spine. "I already know that, even if you didn¡¯t say it," I replied, my voice steadier than I actually felt.

    My eyes, uncovered despite the blindfold draped around my neck, turned toward the sky where the ominous Blood Moon loomed beside its pale companion. At first, I hadn¡¯t recognized the significance of what I was seeing, but as I calmed my racing thoughts, the pieces started falling into place.

    ¡®The Blood Moon¡­¡¯

    My mind flooded with memories of the texts and stories Alexander had spent his life studying. Five centuries ago, during the Dracknum family¡¯s zenith, something catastrophic had unfolded. After the eradication of pureblooded magical beasts, the family faced a new threat that endangered the entire world: the Demon Dimension.

    The Demon Forest, one of the gateways between dimensions, had become a battleground. Demons and their twisted beasts found ways to escape their personal hells and bleed into our reality through that passage. The Dracknums, wielding their unparalleled knowledge and power, had sealed some of the rifts to prevent the demons from wreaking havoc in our world.

    But even with the seal, the threat had never been fully eradicated.

    "Child," the white wolf continued, pulling me from my thoughts. "That moon..."

    I knew what she was about to say, and it made my stomach drop. The air around me felt thick and tense, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.

    The Blood Moon, with its deep crimson glow, was an ominous harbinger¡ªa phenomenon that signified the weakening of the barriers between dimensions. Whenever it appeared, things stirred in the shadows, things that hungered to cross over.

    Demons, like malignant phantoms, were preparing to breach our reality, bringing chaos in their wake. But it wasn¡¯t only the demons that needed to be feared.

    Under the demonic influence of the Blood Moon, beasts and monsters¡ªespecially those whose essence was already tainted with demon blood¡ªbecame even more dangerous. They transformed into unrelenting storms of fury, driven by an instinct for blind destruction.

    Because of the seal, certain parts of the Black Forest had been declared completely off-limits, isolated for one simple reason: those areas were close to the barriers holding the Demon Forest at bay. Even with the seals still intact, remnants of demonic magic lingered in the environment, making the land dangerously unstable.

    And now, with the phenomenon of the Blood Moon, what had once been mere speculation was confirmed: the seal¡ªor at least one of its layers¡ªhad been breached. The Demon Forest, on the other side, was beginning to stir, answering the moon¡¯s ominous call.

    I felt my body tremble¡ªnot from fear, but from a strange mix of apprehension and adrenaline. The wind, ever-present, carried the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves, grounding me in the gravity of the moment.

    "Hey¡­" I started, my voice hoarse and unsteady, my thoughts colliding as I tried to make sense of it all. My throat felt parched, as if every word I forced out scraped against it.

    "If the seal is broken¡­"

    She interrupted me with an authority so absolute that the trees around us seemed to bow in deference to her will. Her voice, usually soft, now bore the weight of immense concern, though her stance remained unwavering.

    ¡°Do not let fear consume you, child,¡± she said, her words ringing with a strength that snapped me back to reality.

    ¡°You still have a role to play. Don¡¯t think about what could happen¡ªfocus on what must be done right now.¡±

    I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts as I looked at her. Her words were like a flame igniting within me, illuminating the path forward. The wind, now howling with more intensity, seemed to transform into a distant warning, a reminder that time was slipping away.

    ¡°And what must be done now?¡± I asked, my expression serious as I held the pup tightly in my hands.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Her response was as sharp and clear as a blade¡¯s edge. ¡°It¡¯s simple. We run.¡±

    The white wolf¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, cutting through any lingering hesitation. Without another word, Dr. Wolf crouched low, her muscular body coiled and ready, as if silently inviting me to climb on. I didn¡¯t hesitate, clutching the pup more firmly, its warm, fragile body pressed against my palms.

    In one fluid motion, I mounted her back.

    Dr. Wolf let out a powerful howl, a sound that resonated through the forest like a command. Almost immediately, the call was answered by the other wolves, their voices rising in unison, a synchronized symphony of readiness. Each movement they made seemed deliberate, every step perfectly aligned with the pack¡¯s rhythm.

    And then, without another word, with the pup in my arms, I mounted on Dr.Wolf and we ran.

    The speed with which Dr. Wolf surged forward was breathtaking, stealing the air from my lungs and forcing my body to adapt to his pace.

    ¡®Why am I so unlucky?¡¯ I thought bitterly as the pack tore through the dense forest, the world around us blurring into shadows and streaks of light.

    The trees and vegetation around us blurred into streaks of green and shadow as we sped through the forest, our footsteps echoing like the relentless beat of a drum. The wind whipped against my face, sharp and biting, while the pounding rhythm of the wolves¡¯ paws against the earth wove a haunting melody that filled the air.

    <hr>

    At the border between the Black Forest and the Demon Forest, Darius stood with his arms crossed, his crimson eyes glinting with irritation as he stared down at the boy kneeling before the natural barrier. His impatience was palpable, the faint glow from the barrier casting flickering light over his sharp features. Beside him, Warwick appeared far less perturbed, his relaxed stance contrasting with Darius¡¯s barely contained frustration.

    The boy¡ªhis black hair tousled, golden eyes wide with tension¡ªwas kneeling on the ground, clutching an ancient scroll glowing faintly with arcane inscriptions. His whole body trembled, beads of sweat trickling down his pale face, leaving streaks in the grime smeared across his skin. His unkempt, dirtied clothes betrayed his frazzled state, as if the weight of his task was grinding him down.

    ¡°How much longer are you going to take, boy?!¡± Darius growled, his voice low and dangerous, carrying the kind of threat that could twist one¡¯s stomach into knots.

    The boy swallowed hard, his throat dry, and stammered out a weak response. ¡°It¡¯ll¡­ it¡¯ll take at least¡­ at least another hour.¡±

    His voice barely rose above a whisper, cracking under the strain of the menacing presence looming behind him. He didn¡¯t dare lift his gaze to meet the fiery glare of Darius or the cold, assessing eyes of Warwick. Instead, he kept his focus locked on the scroll and the barrier before him, his hands trembling as they traced the glowing runes etched into the brittle parchment.

    The barrier itself was an ominous sight¡ªdense trees twisted together with thick vines, knotted and gnarled around jagged rocks that seemed almost alive. As the boy worked, the barrier began to shift, groaning in resistance. The ancient trees creaked and bent, forming cracks and narrow openings, revealing slivers of the world beyond.

    What lay on the other side was nightmarish. A sky stained crimson loomed over barren, blood-red earth, dissected by bubbling rivers of black, tar-like liquid that pulsed unnaturally, as if it were alive. Gnarled, twisted trees with grotesque, face-like carvings in their bark seemed to leer at them, their empty, hollow eyes filled with silent malice. It was a glimpse into another world¡ªa hellish domain that no sane man would willingly step into.

    The boy¡¯s breath hitched as his gaze flickered to the other side of the barrier, his instincts urging him to look away. The oppressive atmosphere clawed at his resolve, threatening to crush him under its weight. He bit down hard on his lower lip, the sharp pain grounding him as his fingers fumbled with the scroll¡¯s delicate edges.

    He closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the terror creeping into his mind¡ªthe suffocating dread of failure, the heavy stares of the men behind him, and the suffocating presence of the malevolent world beyond the barrier. But the task demanded his focus, and no amount of fear could be allowed to stop him. Still, the trembling of his hands betrayed the fragility of his composure, and the clock was ticking.

    ¡®I¡¯m a noble, a noble,¡¯ the boy repeated to himself like a desperate mantra. ¡®If only I had passed the judgment that year¡­¡¯

    He shook his head quickly, trying to push away the dark thoughts. ¡®Damn it, even if I had passed, what guarantee was there that I wouldn¡¯t have been discarded? I was always... disposable.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s too much time!¡± Darius barked, yanking the boy out of his spiraling thoughts. His voice cracked like a whip in the heavy silence.

    ¡°In one hour, the Dracknum reinforcements will be here.¡±

    Warwick, however, remained unfazed. A low chuckle rumbled from him, dripping with disdain.

    ¡°More fun for us,¡± he remarked, stretching his arms as if preparing for a show. His jet-black eyes gleamed in the dim light, a predatory grin curling across his broad, rugged face.

    The boy shuddered at Warwick¡¯s words. The threat embedded in his tone made the boy hasten his movements, though his mind was a chaotic swirl of fear and regret. The barrier continued to weaken, each crack spreading like a harbinger of the chaos to come.

    Darius turned to Warwick, his expression skeptical. ¡°Fun? Don¡¯t be stupid, Warwick. The Dracknum won¡¯t send recruits¡ªthey¡¯ll send veterans.¡±

    Warwick shrugged, completely unconcerned.

    ¡°Recruits or veterans, it makes no difference. They all bleed the same.¡± He smirked, his arrogance practically radiating off him.

    ¡°Besides, why does it bother you so much? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re afraid?¡±

    ¡°Afraid? Me?¡± Darius snapped, his voice filled with indignation.  ¡°Not even in my worst nightmares!¡± He narrowed his crimson eyes, his tone turning sharp.

    ¡°Warwick, let me remind you again: what part of *professional discretion* do you not understand?¡±

    As the two exchanged barbs, the boy remained focused on his task, though his hands trembled¡ªnot just from exhaustion, but from the mounting fear clawing at him. The scroll felt impossibly heavy in his grip, and the oppressive, nauseating energy seeping through the cracks in the barrier made it even harder to concentrate.

    ¡®Why me?¡¯ he thought, struggling to block out the sickly, acrid smell escaping from the barrier.

    ¡®Why did my brother send me here? He knew this was suicide.¡¯

    He allowed himself one last bitter thought before forcing his focus back onto the glowing inscriptions.

    ¡®If I survive this¡­ if I get what¡¯s mine by right¡­ I¡¯ll make him pay.¡¯ His golden eyes gleamed with newfound resolve, a flicker of rebellion burning in their depths.

    Meanwhile, the barrier continued to part, revealing more of the hellish landscape beyond. The jagged crimson skies stretched further into view, and the grotesque, twisted trees seemed to lean closer, their etched faces grinning in silent malice.

    And then there were the shadows¡ªthose fleeting, unnatural movements beyond the barrier. They weren¡¯t trees. They weren¡¯t tricks of the mind.

    Something was there, watching, waiting.

    And time was running out.

    Crunch-crunch.

    The sound of dried leaves being crushed echoed through the shadowy forest. It was subtle, yet enough to set Warwick and Darius on edge, their sharp ears catching the disturbance immediately.

    Clap-clap.

    The crunching was followed by the deliberate sound of slow applause, like someone savoring a theatrical performance. The two men froze, their argument forgotten as the tension thickened in the air.

    ¡°Quiet! Someone¡¯s coming!¡± Darius hissed, spinning around to face the direction of the sound.

    Warwick narrowed his eyes, his instincts kicking into high alert. ¡°How did we not notice them earlier?¡± he muttered, his tone low and edged with suspicion, his gaze scanning the dark treeline.

    The boy clutching the scroll swallowed hard, his concentration wavering as a chill crept over him. The presence approaching from the shadows made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Each step seemed to echo louder in his ears, and his trembling hands betrayed the growing panic he was fighting to suppress.

    The rhythmic sounds came from the direction of the Black Forest¡ªsteady, unhurried, as if whoever was approaching held no fear of what awaited them. The slow, mocking applause continued, each clap punctuating the deliberate footsteps.

    Then, a voice cut through the silence. It was smooth, polite even, but tinged with an unsettling condescension that made it impossible to ignore:

    "You¡¯ve truly caused a plethora of confusion, haven¡¯t you?"

 On the Route of Chaos (2)

    A muffled chorus of footsteps echoed through the dark forest, a symphony of coordinated movement. The wolves'' paws crushed dry leaves and fallen branches in varied rhythms¡ªsome so light and fluid that they barely made a sound, while others were more audible, like the improvised beats of drums marking the pack¡¯s pace. I was still riding on Dr. Wolf, the pup cradled in my arms.

    The darkness was almost tangible, swallowing the landscape in its oppressive density, save for the faint patches of light filtering through the treetops. Every shadow seemed to shift, forming shapes that played tricks on the imagination. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss and fresh earth, mingled with the distinctive musk of the pack.

    We had been running deep into the forest for several minutes. The white she-wolf, leading the pack, had decided it would be safer to cut directly through the mountainous region rather than skirting around it as we had been doing before.

    A tightness settled in my chest. I knew what it meant to head toward the mountains¡ªit was the territory of one of the strongest beasts in the Black Forest.

    I recalled the words Alexander had read aloud back in the family library:

    "In the Black Forest, the beasts follow only one law¡ªthe survival of the strongest. No mercy, no hesitation. That is why they are the ultimate hunters."

    My stomach twisted at the thought. The creatures in that region weren¡¯t just wild; they were monstrously powerful. The strongest among them could easily rival knights or mages of level 3 or 4. Some, the most feared, reached level 5.

    Dr. Wolf, running beside me, was a level 2 magical beast. Even with his strength and skill, he felt small compared to the hostile environment surrounding us. The white she-wolf leading the pack with steady, determined strides was a level 3 beast¡ªa formidable force, but still no match for the true monster of this forest.

    At the heart of the Black Forest resided the creature that maintained the delicate balance of this deadly ecosystem. A level 7 beast, the absolute ruler of all others, it was the apex predator and the true terror of the forest. Fortunately, it rarely left its territory, just as the other creatures remained within their own domains.

    This order¡ªor what could pass as order in the wild¡ªwas a direct result of the Dracknum family''s influence.

    The Dracknums, a lineage of hunters, had not only conquered the forest but shaped it to serve their purposes. They established a fragile equilibrium, turning the forest into a training ground for their descendants. Even the strongest beasts acknowledged the unspoken rules imposed by the Dracknums¡¯ ancestral presence. It was a coexistence enforced by the law of the wild and sheer, undeniable power.

    But now...

    I looked at the white she-wolf running ahead. Her ears were lowered, and her body was more tense than usual. She moved with precision, but something in her demeanor had changed.

    "Stay close, pup," her voice echoed in my mind¡ªfirm, yet tinged with concern. "Something is very wrong with the forest. I feel a call... a force I can''t entirely ignore."

    My heart pounded.

    "A call?" I asked, my voice unsteady as I struggled to remain calm.

    "It¡¯s like a silent command," she replied without slowing down. "A constant pressure, pushing us toward the central area."

    I swallowed hard, my mind racing to make sense of it.

    The strongest beasts in the forest could be responding to the same call. That would explain why I hadn¡¯t seen a single creature since we entered the mountainous region.

    The white she-wolf continued:

    "Even I am struggling to resist. Something¡ªor someone¡ªis manipulating the forest. And if this continues..."

    ¡°...The beasts will abandon their territories,¡± I finished, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. "And they''ll converge on the central area."

    ¡®So that¡¯s why she chose to cut through the mountain,¡¯ I thought, gripping the small pup tightly in my arms to keep from falling.

    The wind lashed against my skin as we pressed forward, the sound of leaves and branches crunching beneath our feet the only constant in the growing chaos around us.

    BOOM!

    A thunderous crash, like an explosion, echoed from the direction we had come.

    BOOM!

    More followed, distant but unmistakable, erupting from different points within the forest.

    BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!...

    The thunderous booms echoed relentlessly, each one closer and more intense than the last. The sound reverberated through the ground, making even the air tremble around us. My heart was pounding, my instincts screaming at me to run.

    "What¡¯s happening?" My voice was barely audible, cut short by my ragged breathing as I struggled to keep my balance, holding the pup tightly in my arms.

    "I¡¯m not sure either," the white she-wolf answered, her voice slipping into my mind, laced with the same confusion I felt.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Then, without warning, she howled¡ªa deep, resonant sound¡ªbefore launching herself forward at full speed.

    I barely had time to react before something strange happened. A thin layer of air seemed to form around her, as if the wind itself was responding to her urgency. Her movements became impossibly fast, almost imperceptible.

    ¡®What is that?¡¯ I thought, sweat dripping down my forehead.

    She moved with the precision and power of an arrow loosed from a bow. The ground beneath her paws seemed to give way, and the trees nearby bent slightly from the force of her movement.

    And then, I heard it. A sound that made my stomach churn.

    BOOM!

    A violent explosion of crimson liquid splattered across the landscape ahead.

    ¡®Blood?¡¯ My mind reeled. ¡®Something¡¯s there.¡¯

    Before I could fully process it, the rest of the pack surged forward, chasing the trail left by the white she-wolf.

    But she was suddenly stopped. Her incredible speed sent her crashing into something solid¡ªan invisible wall that sent her recoiling from the impact.

    Then came the sound that froze my blood.

    A tearing of air.

    A massive claw slashed through the space where she had been just moments before.

    And that¡¯s when I finally saw it.

    A colossal figure began emerging from the shadows of the forest, its form outlined by the dim glow of the Blood Moon.

    It was a bear¡ªbut nothing like any I had ever seen.

    Its pitch-black fur gleamed like polished coal, dense and uneven, with a wild mane around its neck that made it appear even larger. Its silver claws, long and curved, reflected a deadly shimmer. And its eyes¡ªdeep, abyssal black¡ªradiated the presence of a predator that ruled over all.

    My heart pounded.

    ¡®I really have the worst luck with bears¡¯, I thought, struggling to maintain my composure as I analyzed the scene.

    The black bear wasn¡¯t alone. More bears began emerging around it¡ªthese had brownish fur and softer eyes, but their sheer size and the weight of their presence only added to the tension. They seemed to be marching toward the central area of the forest, but now, our presence had shifted their focus.

    "cub," the white she-wolf¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, laced with urgency. "Stay alert. There¡¯s no avoiding this fight."

    I tried to respond, but my body froze as I realized something.

    The black bear, clearly the leader, wasn¡¯t just looking at me. His abyssal eyes were locked onto me¡ªbut not with the gaze of a predator sizing up its prey. His focus was on something else.

    I followed his line of sight, lowering my eyes.

    ¡®The pup?¡¯ I wondered. But then, something even more important caught my attention.

    I was looking at myself.

    ¡®My clothes?!¡¯

    That¡¯s when it hit me.

    The rough, crudely worked pelts covering my body¡ªthe tribal-style skirt reinforced with sturdy vines, the thick fur draped over my torso, resembling a wild mane¡ªlooked eerily similar to the black bear¡¯s own features.

    ¡®Shit¡­ don¡¯t tell me that bear that was killed months ago was his offspring.¡¯

    The realization drained the blood from my face.

    My mind raced for an explanation, but there was no time to think.

    The black bear let out a deep, resonating roar¡ªa sound that seemed to vibrate through my very bones.

    The other bears stirred at the call, their massive paws crushing the earth as they began to move toward us.

    And then, the black bear lunged.

    Straight at the white she-wolf.

    She dodged at the last second, her agility astounding, but the sheer force of his attack was enough to rip small trees from the ground and send splinters flying in every direction.

    I tightened my grip on the pup in my arms, my heart hammering as I scanned my surroundings. Chaos had begun.

    The group of brown-furred bears was charging toward us, their massive paws pounding the earth like rolling thunder, shaking the very foundation of the forest.

    I knew fighting wasn¡¯t an option. Not while I was holding the pup.

    "What do I do?" I asked, my voice weaker than I intended, yet still edged with urgency.

    Before she could answer, one of the smaller bears broke formation and lunged at me, its claws glinting under the moonlight.

    For a split second, time seemed to slow.

    I couldn¡¯t react¡ªnot with the pup pressed against my chest, its tiny, innocent eyes still closed in deep sleep.

    Fortunately, I wasn¡¯t alone.

    Dr. Wolf moved.

    With a grace that contradicted his massive size, he twisted to the side at the exact moment the bear¡¯s claws slashed through the air, missing us by mere inches. I felt the wind from the attack graze my face, sharp and cold.

    The bear barely had time to recover before Dr. Wolf used the momentum of his spin. His powerful hind legs struck the bear¡¯s flank with brutal force.

    The impact was thunderous.

    The smaller bear was sent flying backward, its body crashing into the ground.

    Before it could fully regain its balance, one of the pack wolves seized the opening. Silent and swift, it lunged, its jaws locking around the exposed throat of the fallen bear.

    A muffled, desperate roar escaped the bear¡¯s throat¡ªbut it was already too late.

    The wolf bit down hard, its fangs sinking deep. With one decisive, practiced motion, the struggle was over.

    The bear¡¯s body collapsed, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

    I swallowed hard, feeling my pulse gradually slow as I processed what had just happened.

    "Thank you, my friend," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, my gaze darting across the pack.

    They were already repositioning, their movements sharp and precise, bracing for the relentless wave of bears still surging forward.

    The pounding of heavy paws grew deafening, accompanied by the deep, guttural roars of the advancing beasts.

    I tilted my head toward the sky, searching for answers, for guidance¡ªanything.

    The twin moons still shone above, but the red one pulsed with an ominous energy, thickening the air around us. Its crimson and silver light intertwined, casting distorted, grotesque shadows over the uneven forest floor.

    ¡®At this rate¡­¡¯

    I held the pup closer, instinctively shielding it.

    The bears didn¡¯t falter. They were an unstoppable tide, crashing into our defenses with ruthless ferocity. One by one, the weaker members of the pack became targets, attacked without mercy.

    And I knew¡ªit was only a matter of time before all their attention turned to me.

    ¡®I have to do something.¡¯

 At the End of Everything Its Still Magic

    At the rear of the grand palace of Aurith¨¦a, a man stood in silence, leaning against the marble balcony that stretched like a gateway to the vastness of the night. The sky was scattered with stars that gleamed like shards of precious gems, while the silver moon cast its ethereal glow over the surroundings. Immaculate gardens encircled the palace, with fountains whispering serenely and towering trees extending their branches skyward as if in reverence. In the distance, dark mountains framed the horizon, silent sentinels watching over the great city illuminated by magical lanterns.

    The man, his short golden hair complementing his radiant eyes, was dressed in garments that left no doubt of his unmatched status. White trousers and a crimson top were adorned with intricate gold details, and a mantle, seemingly woven from the very essence of royalty, draped over his broad shoulders. Atop his head, a golden crown encrusted with shimmering jewels reflected the moonlight, as if even the heavens acknowledged his sovereignty.

    Yet, despite all that he represented¡ªpower, ambition, desire¡ªhis expression was weighed down by something unmistakable. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line, and his golden eyes remained fixed on the horizon.

    "Oswald," his voice finally broke the silence, heavy with melancholy, an echo of unspoken storms.

    "As my advisor, my oldest friend, my most trusted confidant¡ªtell me, sincerely¡­"

    He hesitated for a moment, as if the words themselves were thorns in his throat.

    "Mages, sorcerers, witches, druids, healers, liches... They all go by different names depending on how they manipulate mana. Sometimes just to convince themselves that they¡¯re different. But in the end, they all do the same thing. They use magic."

    His gaze hardened, and he let out a long, weary sigh.

    "We claim to be the wisest, the most enlightened. And for that reason, we restrict those we deem dangerous¡­ or so we say."

    A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of the night-blooming flowers from the gardens below, but it did little to lift the weight in the air.

    "And now, when it suits us, we turn to the very practices we once outlawed."

    "My king..." Oswald attempted to interject, his voice cautious, filled with reverence.

    "Tell me, Oswald," the king continued, as if he hadn''t heard him. "Magic that disturbs the balance of reality was forbidden long ago. Legends say it brings ruin to those who wield it. And yet..."

    He gripped the balcony tighter, his knuckles turning white as his voice dropped to a whisper laden with torment.

    "How can I call myself a king if I do not trust the potential of my own people? How can I gamble with their lives for the sake of my whims?"

    The pressure he exerted on the marble grew, fine cracks spreading across its once-flawless surface.

    "If everything goes wrong..." his voice faltered, but he pressed on, now barely audible. "Will I be remembered as a fool?"

    The marble gave way, shattering beneath his grip. He stared at the fallen fragments, yet his expression remained unchanged.

    "It doesn''t matter," he sighed, his voice heavy with resignation. "I¡¯ve forgotten something important... in the end¡­ no one will remember this story."

    Oswald remained silent, his gaze fixed on the king. Even adorned with all the splendor of a monarch, his figure seemed small beneath the weight of the moon and the burden he bore.

    <hr>

    ¡®I have to do something¡¯. The thought struck me as my mind raced, weighing my options. But what could I do? I was surrounded, with few resources, and a helpless cub in my arms.

    My eyes darted to the white wolf still locked in fierce combat ahead¡ªa whirlwind of strength and grace as she faced off against the massive black bear, the apparent leader of the pack.

    The bear¡¯s strikes were swift and brutal, its sheer size forcing it to remain upright for most of the battle. The white wolf, agile and precise, dodged its attacks with remarkable skill, countering whenever an opening presented itself. But it wasn¡¯t enough.

    The bear wielded earth magic, attempting to trap the wolf, destabilize her stance, and break her rhythm. Yet, she moved with unparalleled finesse, the air itself shimmering faintly around her¡ªan unseen shield aiding her defense.

    ¡®That bear¡­ it must be a Rank 3 beast as well¡¯. I realized, watching how evenly matched the fight was. ¡®She won¡¯t be able to win this quickly. And the elemental affinities  aren¡¯t in her favor.¡¯

    I took a deep breath, trying to steady my heart, which pounded like war drums in my chest.

    "I can''t keep going like this," I muttered to myself, trying to keep my voice steady despite the crushing weight of the moment.

    With the cub pressed tightly against my chest, I closed my eyes for a brief second, searching within myself for the strength I knew I would need. The chaos around us was deafening¡ªroars, howls, the sharp swish of claws slicing through the air. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the damp earth and the rustling of crushed leaves beneath the wolves¡¯ paws and the bears¡¯ claws.

    It was reckless, and I knew it. But in the midst of chaos, even the deadliest predators could be deceived.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡®I need a plan¡¯. My mind raced, scrambling for a way out¡ªsomething, anything, that could give us a chance at survival. And then, like a spark in the darkness, the idea struck.

    "Dr. Wolf, this is our only shot." My voice was low but laced with determination. I crouched down, holding the cub even closer to my chest, pressing my body against his.

    "I need you to trust me... When I give the signal, you move. Got it?"

    Dr. Wolf didn¡¯t answer, but something in his stance shifted. Even without words, I knew he understood.

    He kept dodging the bears¡¯ relentless attacks with expert precision, countering whenever an opening presented itself. I clung to his back with every ounce of strength I had, the cub nestled against me. In this moment, my only purpose was to shield him¡ªand find a way out of this alive.

    BOOM!

    The battle between the white wolf and the black bear, the enemy leader, had reached a whole new level of intensity. Both were wounded, their bodies marked with deep gashes and slashes. Roars and howls filled the battlefield, blending with the distant echoes of explosions from elsewhere in the forest.

    The air around the white wolf shimmered, pulsing with raw, condensed wind magic. She threw her head back and let out a piercing howl before lunging forward, the energy around her jaws coalescing into translucent fangs of pure magical force¡ªrazor-sharp, deadly.

    The black bear answered her challenge, his silver claws extending, glowing with an eerie brilliance as he unleashed a roar so powerful it rattled my very bones.

    The clash was inevitable¡ªa collision of raw power and refined magic.

    "NOW!" I bellowed, emptying my lungs with the force of the command.

    Dr. Wolf reacted instantly, kicking away one of the smaller bears attacking him before surging toward the battlefield where the leaders clashed. I leaned in closer, gripping onto him with all my strength to avoid being thrown off by our increasing speed. Around us, a thin layer of wind formed like a second skin¡ªshielding us, amplifying our momentum.

    ¡®It¡¯s now or never¡¯, I thought, channeling all the ambient mana around me.

    ¡ª "Droplet!" ¡ª I whispered, focusing the water element at the tip of my finger.

    A small sphere of water began to form, but it wasn¡¯t enough. My mind raced, pulling more energy from my surroundings, feeding it into the droplet. Slowly, it expanded until it reached the size of my palm.

    ¡®Still not enough¡¯, I thought, sweat dripping down my forehead as I wove lightning into the sphere.

    ¡ª "Charge." ¡ª Sparks flickered dangerously within the liquid, unstable and volatile. The sphere trembled under the pressure of its internal energy, but I held my focus.

    In seconds, we were within arm¡¯s reach of the battle. The black bear turned its head toward us, momentarily distracted¡ªa crucial opening. It raised its remaining claw to strike at the white wolf but redirected the other toward us.

    "Dr.!" I called out.

    Dr. Wolf leapt with precision, and in that exact moment, I acted.

    ¡ª "Gale!" ¡ª I channeled wind mana into Dr. Wolf¡¯s body, propelling his jump higher, allowing us to barely evade the razor-sharp claw slicing through the air.

    The white wolf seized the opportunity. Adjusting her trajectory, she lunged, her wind-enforced fangs sinking deep into the bear¡¯s left arm. A deafening roar of agony echoed through the forest as the beast staggered back, blood pouring from the severed limb.

    The moment Dr. Wolf landed, I activated the spell again, launching us straight toward the bear¡¯s exposed side.

    ¡ª "Gale!" ¡ª The wind propelled us forward like an arrow.

    With the electrified water sphere crackling in my palm, I locked onto the bear¡¯s gaping wound.

    ¡ª "MAXIMUM CHARGE!" ¡ª I roared, pouring every ounce of energy left into the attack.

    The bear had no time to react. The sphere buried itself deep into the open wound, and in an instant, unleashed a devastating electrical explosion from within. Its body convulsed violently, muscles spasming as if pulled by unseen wires. The raw energy ripped through its insides, its blood surging out in torrents, staining the forest floor in crimson.

    "If it won¡¯t go from the outside," I murmured, my voice hoarse and unsteady. "Then it¡¯ll burn from the inside."

    Without wasting a second, I seized the opportunity.

    ¡ª "Flame!" ¡ª I shouted, channeling fire mana in a flash and releasing the spell. My hands trembled, but my resolve never wavered. The fire didn¡¯t need to be overwhelming¡ªjust strong enough to ignite what was left.

    The moment the flame touched the electrified water sphere, chaos erupted. The lightning surged wildly, crackling with renewed fury as the water and blood began to evaporate. A thick curtain of steam engulfed the bear, and for a brief moment, everything fell eerily silent.

    BOOM!

    The explosion that followed was deafening, the shockwave ripping through the battlefield. I was sent hurtling backward, my body tossed through the air like a leaf caught in a raging storm.

    "WHO SAYS BASIC SPELLS ARE USELESS?!" I yelled, adrenaline coursing through me as I was thrown.

    The cub let out a soft whimper in my arms, and instinct took over¡ªI twisted midair, curling around him like a human shield.

    My fall was broken by something firm yet yielding¡ªtwo wolves who had abandoned the fight to protect me. The impact still knocked the wind from my lungs, but I was alive.

    The scene around me was a blur of chaos. The black bear let out one final, guttural roar¡ªa sound so deep and raw it seemed to shake the very trees¡ªbefore its massive body gave out. With a thunderous crash, it collapsed, the ground trembling beneath its weight.

    I drew in a shaky breath, my limbs trembling uncontrollably from exhaustion. The cub stirred in my arms, his tiny head peeking out, dazed but unharmed.

    Dr. Wolf approached swiftly, his sharp gaze scanning me for injuries. I forced a weak smile, drained but relieved.

    "We did it," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath.

    The white wolf was approaching as well. Her body still radiated power, but she was covered in battle scars, her flank stained with blood, and her golden eyes burning with intensity. When our gazes met, the world around us seemed to freeze for a brief moment.

    No words were exchanged, but the understanding between us was undeniable.

    The battle still raged on around us¡ªthe roars of the remaining bears clashing against the howls of the wolves. But in that instant, as I caught my breath and felt the warmth of the cub in my arms, I realized we had gained something far more important: a chance to fight another day.

 Under the Light of the Blood Moon

    Oswin and Gl¨®ria had been running long enough for their breaths to come in ragged gasps and their once-steady strides to falter. The forest around them was a maze of shadows, the twisted trees and dense undergrowth creating a suffocating, claustrophobic atmosphere.

    "Gl¨®ria," Oswin called, his voice laced with confusion and fear, golden eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement.

    "Why hasn¡¯t it attacked yet? It¡¯s been following us for over an hour¡­ This doesn¡¯t make sense."

    Gl¨®ria, running ahead, shot a quick glance over her shoulder, her expression tense. She clutched the pendant at her chest as if it could somehow give her strength.

    "It¡¯s toying with us," she said, her voice low but carrying a certainty Oswin didn¡¯t want to question.

    "If it wanted us dead, it would¡¯ve done it already. This¡­ this is a game to it."

    Her words hit Oswin like a stone. He swallowed hard, his mind struggling to grasp the reality of their situation. They had never faced anything like this before.

    Despite being direct descendants of House Dracknum, neither of them belonged to the main bloodline. Still, that had never stopped them from enjoying the privileges that came with the name. They had grown up surrounded by luxury, guarded at all times, dismissing any threat that dared to cross their path.

    They were used to being in control, to standing above others, deciding fates as if it were their birthright. And, above all, they were used to having their own safety guaranteed by the sheer power and influence of their family.

    But now¡­

    Now, for the first time in their lives, they were prey.

    It was a sickening feeling, one that went beyond fear. It was humiliating. A sense of powerlessness crept into their hearts like poison, mingling with the bitter realization that no one was coming to save them.

    "This can¡¯t be happening¡­" Oswin whispered.

    "Shut up and run!" Gl¨®ria snapped, her voice sharper than she intended, betraying the fear she was trying so hard to suppress.

    The trees around them felt increasingly oppressive. The air was thick, and the constant sound of footsteps behind them kept Oswin and Gl¨®ria¡¯s adrenaline at dangerous levels. But they knew¡ªgiving in to panic would be fatal.

    Oswin took a deep breath, trying to steady his frantic heartbeat. He had survived in this forest for over six months. He was skilled. He had a future. And he couldn¡¯t afford to give up now.

    Then, suddenly, something changed. His senses¡ªsharpened by his Dracknum lineage¡ªpicked up on something new. A sharp, pungent scent filled his nostrils, mingling with the muffled sounds of a struggle.

    "Gl¨®ria," he called, his voice tinged with both fear and excitement. "I think we just found our chance!"

    Gl¨®ria shot him a look, disbelief clear in her golden eyes as she kept pace beside him.

    "What? Spit it out!" she demanded, impatience creeping into her voice.

    Oswin narrowed his eyes, focusing on what his senses were telling him.

    "I smell blood up ahead," he said, pausing just long enough to avoid tripping over an exposed root.

    Gl¨®ria cut him off, her tone incredulous. "And how the hell is that a good thing? Blood means death!"

    "Let me finish!" Oswin snapped, nearly out of breath. "I also hear sounds¡­ howls, maybe even roars. I think there¡¯s a battle going on¡ªbeasts fighting each other!"If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Gl¨®ria furrowed her brows, eyes locked on the path ahead.

    "So what? What difference does that make?"

    Oswin managed a faint smile, though fear was still etched into his features.

    "It means we can use it as a distraction. If those things are busy tearing each other apart, we might be able to slip past unnoticed¡­ and get out of here."

    A tense silence settled between them, broken only by their heavy breathing and the rustling of leaves beneath their feet.

    "This is insane," Gl¨®ria muttered, but her expression showed no better alternative.

    "Insane is staying here and waiting for that thing to catch up," Oswin shot back, quickening his pace. "I¡¯d rather take my chances."

    Reluctantly, Gl¨®ria nodded, adjusting the pendant around her neck. They had no choice.

    And so, with the scent of blood growing stronger and the sounds of battle becoming clearer, they pressed forward, hoping the forest would grant them this one chance at survival.

    The thick, metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the chaotic echoes of roars and howls. Oswin and Gl¨®ria ran faster, their instincts clashing with adrenaline and fear.

    "NOW!"

    A distant shout cut through the night, reverberating between the trees.

    They exchanged a quick glance, hearts hammering.

    ¡®Are there others here?¡¯ The thought crossed both their minds at the same time as they pushed themselves to move even faster.

    The air was thick with the sounds of explosions, agonized screams, and the sickening crunch of bones. With every step, the tension grew. The scent of blood was suffocating, and the crimson glow of the moon made everything feel more vivid, more grotesque.

    BOOM!

    "WHO SAYS BASIC SPELLS ARE USELESS?"

    Another voice rang out, partially drowned by a deafening roar that sent a tremor through Gl¨®ria¡¯s body, making her stumble.

    "Oswin, what the hell is going on?" she gasped, her golden eyes wide with confusion.

    "I don¡¯t know..." he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move faster.

    Then, a massive impact echoed ahead¡ªfollowed by an eerie silence. The only sounds left were scattered howls and faint roars, more like fading remnants of a battle already lost.

    Thud!

    They skidded to a stop as they reached a more open clearing. Pushing through the dense underbrush, their eyes locked onto the sight before them.

    A massacre.

    The ground was littered with the bodies of wolves and bears, their torn and bloodied forms creating a gruesome carpet under the glow of the twin moons. Blood, dirt, and flesh mixed together, forming dark pools that shimmered under the red moonlight. Some of the larger beasts still moved, dragging themselves toward the shadows, while others lay lifeless¡ªsilent proof that their fight had ended.

    In the distance, the colossal body of a black bear stood out among the carnage. One of its arms was missing, the wound where the limb should have been still smoldering, sending wisps of steam into the night air. There was no blood there.

    A few meters away, a white wolf with piercing golden eyes sat motionless. Its fur, stained with blood, shimmered under the moonlight as if the creature were forged from silver and crimson. Two other wolves flanked it, tense and alert, their focus locked onto a lone figure at the center of the battlefield.

    And there, at the heart of the destruction, stood a boy.

    He looked out of place, yet disturbingly in tune with the chaos surrounding him. His clothes were crude, made from animal pelts haphazardly bound together with thick vines. His body was drenched in blood, his face streaked with dirt and shallow cuts, and his long, unkempt hair fell wildly over his forehead. But his eyes¡ªthose golden eyes¡ªburned with an unnatural intensity as they fixed immediately on the newcomers.

    In his arms, he clutched a small pup, holding it tightly to his chest as though his very life depended on it. The contrast between his blood-drenched figure and the serene stillness of the tiny creature in his grasp was unsettling.

    The light from the twin moons¡ªone silver, the other a deep, menacing red¡ªcast an almost theatrical glow over the scene, framing the boy like the tragic hero of an ancient myth. He stood there, a young and exhausted warrior amidst the ruins of battle.

    Oswin and Gl¨®ria halted near the massive black bear¡¯s corpse, their bodies trembling at the sight before them.

    "This¡­ this isn¡¯t normal," Gl¨®ria whispered, barely able to form the words.

    Oswin tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry.

    "So there was someone h¡ª" he started, attempting to break the suffocating silence.

    "LOOK OUT¡­!"

    The boy¡¯s hoarse, desperate shout cut through Oswin¡¯s words.

    But it was already too late.

    From above, a shadow streaked across the sky like lightning¡ªfollowed by a rain of blood that came crashing down upon them.

 Blood and Tears

    Several minutes had passed since the black bear had fallen. Without their leader, most of the bears had lost the will to fight. Even so, there was still resistance¡ªsome continued to attack, perhaps out of instinct or sheer desperation.

    I was drenched in the black bear¡¯s blood, which had poured like a river after the explosion. My muscles trembled from exertion, and my mind felt like an empty battlefield after the war¡ªdrained and scattered. Even using basic magic, despite being level zero, had pushed my mind to its limit.

    Not to mention the toll exacted by the explosion and my reckless manipulation of elemental electricity.

    My right arm was superficially burned, with minor wounds from direct contact with the uncontrolled energy. But my hand... that was in far worse shape. Burns covered my skin, and every attempt at movement sent a fresh wave of pain through the muscles.

    "If it weren¡¯t just basic magic..." I muttered, staring at my arm. The damage was manageable, but the pain was a constant reminder of the battle.

    "Better not dwell on it." I shook my head, forcing myself to push away the thought of ¡®what if.¡¯

    The white she-wolf approached slowly, her golden eyes locked onto mine, glowing with something between pride and concern.

    "Cub, thank you. Because of you, we won this battle without heavy losses." Her voice echoed in my mind, filled with gratitude.

    I looked up at her, exhausted but sincere as I smiled.

    "I only returned the favor. After all, we¡¯re all part of the same pack. And what¡¯s family for, if not to help each other?"

    Her ears twitched slightly, and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate.

    "You..." she started, her voice carrying an emotion I couldn¡¯t quite decipher. "You¡¯re just like her."

    Her words struck me like a whisper from the past. My smile slowly faded, replaced by a solemn expression. I wasn¡¯t sure why her words hit so hard, but deep down, I realized it was Alexander¡¯s influence.

    Before I could respond, a low, menacing sound broke the silence.

    The sound had come from the direction of the black bear¡¯s body.

    My eyes narrowed, locking onto the source of the noise.

    Two kids emerged from the shadows, their steps hesitant but their golden eyes burning with determination. They looked about my age¡ªmaybe slightly older. Unlike me, they were clean, their clothes still mostly intact¡ªa stark contrast to my own battered and bloodstained state. They had likely been undergoing their own trial before the anomaly occurred.

    They stopped near the black bear¡¯s body, scanning the scene before them. Their gazes met mine. For a brief moment, it seemed as though they were trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

    "So there really was someone who..." one of them started, but his words were abruptly cut off.

    The black bear¡¯s body moved.

    With a sudden, ferocious motion, it surged upward, its massive claw slicing through the air with a sound that seemed to tear through reality itself.

    "WATCH OUT!" I shouted, my voice hoarse, desperate.

    But it was already too late.

    Or at least, that¡¯s what I thought.

    SWOOSH.

    From the shadows, a figure darted across the battlefield with breathtaking speed. The silhouette leaped toward the bear¡¯s attack, soaring over the two boys.

    But he was just a second too slow in his act of bravery. He saved them¡ªbut not himself.

    The bear¡¯s claw struck Dr. Wolf with devastating force, the impact reverberating through the forest like a clap of thunder. His body was hurled through the air like a stray arrow, blood arcing through the sky in a tragic, crimson streak. When he finally crashed to the ground, his body skidded across the dirt, sliding several meters before coming to a stop near me¡ªhis paws still outstretched in a protective gesture, as if trying, even in his fall, to fulfill his duty.

    My heart froze.

    Everything around me seemed to fall silent, as if the entire world had held its breath.

    "NO! NO, NO!" I screamed, my voice slicing through the air, thick with despair.

    I ran toward him, the cub still clutched in my arms. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though my very body was resisting the cruel inevitability of what had just happened.

    Dr. Wolf lay there, motionless. His once-majestic fur was now soaked in blood. A deep, jagged wound, like grotesque bars, ran from his chest to his head, spilling an endless crimson.

    "Why? Why?!" My voice broke, dissolving into sobs. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood that seemed to stain everything around me.

    Sensing my anguish¡ªor perhaps his own¡ªthe cub wriggled free from my arms. With his head lowered, he approached Dr. Wolf, gently licking his fur, as if trying to wake him. Each careful lick was a silent plea, a voiceless cry that tore at my heart even more.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    But he didn¡¯t respond.

    My gaze shifted to the two boys who had appeared earlier. They stood frozen, paralyzed like statues. Drops of Dr. Wolf¡¯s blood had splattered onto them, staining their clothes, their skin. Their golden eyes¡ªso much like mine¡ªwere wide, locked onto the horrific scene before them.

    Behind them, the battle between the white she-wolf and the black bear raged on. But something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

    Despite missing an arm, the bear moved with unnatural speed and power. His gaping wound had been covered with dirt and debris, as if sealing itself. His once-dark eyes now burned with an eerie, demonic intensity, and every movement radiated raw, unchecked fury¡ªan unstoppable force of nature.

    The white she-wolf, in contrast, had lost all sense of reason. Her attacks were wild, almost desperate, as if sheer rage had taken over. She ignored her wounds entirely, each breath heavy, each strike filled with a fury I had never seen before.

    The scene was chaos¡ªbrutal, unrelenting¡ªand yet, everything around me felt like it had slowed to a crawl.

    "It can¡¯t end like this," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

    My fingers trembled as I gently ran them through Dr. Wolf¡¯s blood-matted fur, as if somehow, I could undo what had happened. But there was nothing I could do.

    Beside me, the cub let out a low sound¡ªa heartbreaking mix of a whimper and a howl. He pressed his small head against Dr. Wolf¡¯s lifeless body, refusing to move away.

    I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes back to the battlefield ahead.

    There was no time to grieve. Not now.

    The moons shone intensely above us, their silver and crimson glow turning the battlefield into a nightmarish spectacle. It was as if those distant celestial bodies were watching, silent witnesses to the horror unfolding below.

    My fists were clenched, but the pain coursing through me wasn¡¯t from my wounds. It was something deeper. I was frozen in place, my gaze locked onto Dr. Wolf¡¯s lifeless body¡ªmy first friend in this world, perhaps the closest thing to a brother I could have imagined.

    It was ironic. He was supposed to be just another mindless beast, yet this so-called beast had saved me countless times. He had carried me through endless days and nights, taught me, protected me¡ªtime and time again¡ªat the cost of his own safety. And he had done all of this without ever speaking a single word. His presence, his actions¡­ and now¡ªnow he was lying still before me.

    "Why did you do that?" I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. I knew he couldn¡¯t answer, but the words slipped from my lips, heavy with a despair I couldn¡¯t contain.

    The white she-wolf continued her relentless battle against the reanimated black bear. The two clashed with raw brutality, their strength and fury colliding like waves in a raging storm. There was no strategy, no finesse¡ªonly the primal struggle of two predators desperate to survive.

    But then, something shifted.

    What had seemed like an endless fight suddenly took an unexpected turn.

    <hr>

    Oswin and Gl¨®ria stood frozen¡ªnot just in fear, but in sheer disbelief at how quickly everything had unraveled. Their clothes were stained with blood, the thick liquid trickling slowly down their faces, blurring their vision. Even so, they could still make out the lost expression of the golden-eyed boy standing in the center of that ruined battlefield, drenched in blood, motionless amid the carnage.

    Gl¨®ria took a hesitant step forward, raising a trembling hand toward him. She wanted to say something¡ªanything¡ªto shatter the suffocating silence. But her feet wouldn¡¯t move. A deep, primal chill ran down her spine, rooting her in place.

    Oswin felt the same creeping terror. His instincts screamed at him, forcing his gaze away from the blood-soaked scene ahead and back toward the forest behind them¡ªthe direction they had come from.

    A muffled sound¡ªthe faintest whisper of leaves shifting¡ªcaught his attention.

    His heartbeat quickened, each pulse thundering in his ears like a war drum.

    Between the trees, he saw a shadow gliding effortlessly through the darkness. Its movements were so fluid, so eerily perfect, that it seemed to be a part of the forest itself.

    "Shit." The thought shot through his mind as he struggled against the rising panic.

    For a fleeting moment, two yellowish points of light pierced the darkness¡ªlike demonic eyes locked onto him. Their glow was unnervingly intense, as if they could see straight through to his soul.

    "Is it... smiling?" he whispered, his voice unsteady.

    That thing wasn¡¯t just an animal. It was something that enjoyed the fear and chaos it created.

    Gl¨®ria remained silent, her body still rigid.

    SWOOSH!

    Like a razor-sharp gust of wind, the creature erupted from the shadows¡ªswift, precise. Before anyone could react, it was already behind the black bear.

    With a single, fluid motion, its powerful jaws and razor-sharp claws tore through the bear¡¯s neck. The severed head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling a few meters before being crushed beneath the creature¡¯s massive paw.

    For a moment, the entire battlefield froze.

    The beast that had emerged was terrifying¡ªnot just in appearance, but in the aura it exuded. It was larger than the white she-wolf, its lean, muscular frame resembling that of a hyena, but on a monstrous scale. A long, thick mane ran down its back, swaying almost hypnotically with the wind.

    Its yellow eyes gleamed with an unsettling intelligence, and its black-and-gray mottled fur seemed to swallow the surrounding light. But the most disturbing part was its face¡ªlocked in a twisted, eerie grin, as if savoring the fear and shock of its prey.

    This was the most dominant predator of the mountain region.

    And it was no ordinary beast.

    It was a Crothyna¡ªone of the infamous Twilight Jackals. A name earned through their cunning and malice. Crothynas were apex predators, perfectly adapted to rough terrain and relentless hunters. Their paw pads were as hard as stone, granting them unmatched stability on steep or unstable ground. Their razor-sharp claws and agile bodies made them masters of ambush and pursuit.

    But the most terrifying thing about them was their power. A fully grown Crothyna was already equivalent to a level 4 magical beast, but under the right conditions, they could surpass that limit¡ªreaching level 5.

    The white she-wolf let out a low growl, her golden eyes locked onto this new threat. Her fur bristled, her body tense as she carefully assessed the opponent before her.

    The Crothyna, however, seemed utterly unfazed. Slowly, its gaze swept across the clearing.

    First, its piercing eyes locked onto Oswin and Gl¨®ria. The eerie grin stretched even further, twisting into something even more sinister. Then, as if mocking them, it lifted the paw that had crushed the black bear¡¯s head and made a slow, almost theatrical motion¡ªlike a wave.

    The two stood frozen, their bodies paralyzed by sheer terror, unable to react.

    Finally, its gaze shifted toward the helpless boy.

    The Crothyna wasn¡¯t concerned about being attacked. In fact, it knew no one would dare. It wasn¡¯t just a predator¡ªit was the apex predator of this land. A hunter that lived not just to kill, but to savor the despair of its prey.

 The Smile of Death

    In the darkness of the forest, a figure approached, its deliberate footsteps echoing between the trees. A rhythmic, calculated clapping sound sliced through the silence, followed by a voice¡ªgentle, yet dripping with condescension:

    ¡°You¡¯ve truly caused a plethora of confusion, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    The voice was melodic, carrying an air of tranquility and authority, as if the speaker possessed all the time in the world.

    Warwick and Darius immediately assumed combat stances. Warwick, unarmed, bent his knees, planting his feet firmly into the ground, fists raised¡ªa stance honed by years of battle. His body leaned forward ever so slightly, poised to unleash raw force at a moment''s notice.

    Darius, in contrast, radiated pure menace. His eyes burned with a crimson glow as his nails extended, sharpening into claw-like talons. His breaths grew heavier, more primal.

    Both had reached the same conclusion: Dracknum''s reinforcements had arrived sooner than expected.

    The young noble, still hunched over the parchment, felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine. Yet, he dared not stop. He dared not lift his gaze. He knew that if he halted now, he would face the wrath of not just the two mercenaries¡ªbut something far worse. His only option was to continue, even as every fiber of his being screamed at him to run.

    As the figure emerged from the shadows, its form began to take shape. Warwick didn''t wait. He struck the air with brutal force, the motion generating an explosive gust of wind that shot toward the silhouette.

    Clank.

    The attack met something metallic, ringing through the night like a distant bell.

    "Steady now, steady," the figure uttered, tone almost indifferent.

    "You are all frightfully impulsive. Everything in its proper time."

    At last, the moonlight unveiled the stranger. He was tall and slender, his long, midnight-blue hair cascading past his shoulders, immaculately aligned as if meticulously arranged with each passing second. His golden eyes gleamed with a calculated sharpness, and his pale, flawless skin seemed almost translucent under the silver glow of the moon.

    Resting in his hands was a claymore¡ªa massive two-handed sword. But unlike ordinary weapons, this was a masterpiece. Its blade, subtly tapered, was adorned with intricate golden inscriptions that began at the base and extended halfway up its length. The weapon¡¯s guard was equally opulent, decorated with fine details that seemed like jewels sculpted by a divine artisan.

    Moving with an almost exasperating calm, the man adjusted his long coat¡ªa heavy, dark fabric embroidered with subtle patterns. Detaching the sword¡¯s guard from his belt, he did something that caught both mercenaries off guard¡ªhe sat down, almost casually, leaning against a nearby tree.

    He rested the sword across his knees, as though it were nothing more than a mere accessory, then pulled a white handkerchief from his coat and, with meticulous, almost obsessive precision, began polishing the weapon¡¯s guard.

    Warwick and Darius exchanged glances, their perplexity evident. The man¡¯s demeanor was anything but that of a combatant¡ªhe looked like someone about to attend a ball. Every detail of his appearance and mannerisms exuded disdain for the rough environment surrounding him.

    Yet neither mercenary dared to lower their guard. Something was wrong. If he was alone yet this composed, there had to be a reason.

    "I must say," the man finally spoke again, his tone edged with boredom, never once pausing in his cleaning,

    "You are, indeed, most deserving of enthusiastic applause."

    He briefly lifted the handkerchief, examining the blade with a critical eye before resuming his polishing.

    "From the detonation of the portals that grant fast passage to the villages skirting this forest, to the veritable symphony of diversions you so cunningly orchestrated¡ªone must admit, it is a true magnum opus of chaos."

    His voice was refined, laced with an eloquence that clashed starkly with the untamed wilderness around them.

    Warwick let out a low growl, his stance shifting to something even more aggressive. "What? Who the hell are you?" he snapped, thrown off by the man''s peculiar way of speaking.

    The man lifted his gaze, fixing Warwick with a look of quiet condescension. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

    "Ah, how unbecoming of me," he murmured, tilting his head slightly, as if genuinely contemplating the question.

    "Think of me as nothing more than an observer¡ªone who delights in witnessing the spectacle you have so meticulously orchestrated. However," he paused, resuming his methodical polishing of the sword,

    "my patience is not inexhaustible, and I fear you have already subjected it to far too many trials."

    Darius took a step forward, his voice a low, rumbling growl.

    "If you came here to stop us, you should''ve brought reinforcements."

    The man chuckled softly¡ªa quiet, almost melodic sound.

    "Reinforcements? Oh, Darius, spare me. Do you truly believe I would resort to something so... vulgar?"

    Darius froze at the mention of his name.

    "Surprised? How delightful." The man¡¯s smile widened, yet it carried no warmth¡ªonly a chilling detachment.

    "I always do my homework."

    Warwick clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body coiled tight, like a bowstring on the verge of snapping.

    "Enough with the games," he snarled. "Either you tell us what you want, or we settle this here and now."Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The man tilted his head again, as if weighing the offer. He let out a soft sigh, tucking the handkerchief away before resting both hands atop the sword¡¯s guard.

    "What I want, Warwick?" His voice lowered, nearly a whisper.

    "It is quite simple¡ªnothing at all."

    With deliberate slowness, he lifted the sword, its tip now aimed at the two mercenaries, the smile never fading from his lips.

    "But if violence is what you seek," he continued, the blade catching the twin glows of the moons,

    "then it falls upon me to enlighten you on the burden of your actions."

    <hr>

    The Crothyna remained motionless, her golden eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that seemed to pierce straight through my soul. That smile¡­ It wasn¡¯t just unsettling¡ªit played with my mind, savoring every drop of my fear as if it were a delicacy.

    I couldn¡¯t look away, no matter how desperately I wanted to. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded so violently that I feared she could hear it.

    It was the first time I had ever felt something akin to the crushing energy that emanated from Leopold and Alexander¡¯s father. It wasn¡¯t as overwhelming as theirs, yet it was unmistakable. The dark, muddied aura that bled from the Crothyna was grotesque. It pulsed irregularly, as if it were alive¡ªbut flawed, broken in a way that felt fundamentally wrong.

    And yet, its incompleteness did nothing to make it less terrifying. Quite the opposite. That very defect seemed to reflect something deeply insidious about her nature, something that only made her feel more unpredictable, more dangerous.

    My body refused to obey me. I was frozen, my muscles locked as though they had been rooted to the earth itself. The small creature at my side trembled, but it made no sound. Its wide, unblinking eyes were locked onto the Crothyna, and for the first time, I saw something in them that wasn¡¯t just raw instinct. It was fear.

    The Crothyna tilted her head slightly, her smile stretching into something even more grotesque, a near-surreal distortion of amusement. Her golden eyes gleamed with calculated malice¡ªshe knew exactly what she was doing.

    "Little one." The white wolf¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, taut with tension. "She¡¯s testing you."

    ¡®Testing? As if I were nothing more than prey?¡¯ The thought surfaced, but it lacked my usual conviction.

    The Crothyna took a step forward. Her paws met the leaf-covered ground in near silence, yet the sound of her movement rang heavy in my ears. Each step carried a weight beyond the physical, as though the very air around her had been charged with violent intent.

    I forced my body to respond, but all I managed was a dry swallow, my gaze still locked onto hers.

    Finally, she stopped just a few paces away. Her posture was relaxed, almost casual¡ªbut every fiber of my being knew it was a deception. She was the embodiment of the perfect predator, and I was entirely at her mercy.

    Her golden eyes, devoid of warmth, raked over me from head to toe. She was evaluating me, deciding whether I was worth the hunt¡­ or simply beneath her notice.

    Then, the white wolf moved. She stepped between us, her luminous fur catching the crimson glow of the moon. A low growl rumbled from deep within her chest¡ªa warning, unambiguous.

    "Do not move, little one," she murmured, her voice quiet yet unyielding. "She wants you to react. She wants you to make a mistake."

    My gaze flickered briefly toward the white wolf, but it was drawn back to the Crothyna almost instantly. Ignoring her was impossible. It was as if she commanded the very space around us, as though every shadow, every whisper of sound, belonged to her.

    She parted her mouth slightly, and a strange noise slipped out. It was neither a growl nor a roar¡ªsomething caught between laughter and a muffled scream. A sound so unnatural it sent a shiver through every inch of my body.

    "Why isn¡¯t she attacking?" I murmured under my breath, my voice barely more than a stray thought escaping my lips.

    "She doesn¡¯t need to," the white wolf¡¯s voice resonated in my mind, thick with tension and certainty. "She already owns this space. Every second she waits, she breaks you down a little more."

    My stomach twisted at her words¡ªbecause that was exactly how it felt. The Crothyna¡¯s smile, the way she remained utterly motionless yet suffocatingly present, was unbearable.

    "Little one," the white wolf¡¯s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "You need to run."

    I turned to her, confused. "But how are we supposed to escape?" My voice trembled despite myself.

    "I will distract her." The certainty in her voice was unwavering, her golden eyes locked onto the creature before us.

    "But what about you?" I pressed, my words laced with worry. "How will you get away?"

    "Do not concern yourself with me," she said firmly. "I have my ways. Take the little one and leave this place."

    For a moment, I remained frozen. My entire body trembled, a tight knot forming in my throat. I knew she was right. I knew there was no other choice. But knowing did nothing to make the decision any easier.

    My fists clenched, nails digging painfully into my palms. My gaze darted between the Crothyna, still watching me with that twisted, unbearable grin, and Dr. Wolf¡¯s unmoving body in front of me.

    "Even so," I whispered, my voice cracking with grief, "I refuse. We are a family. We fight together." My words carried the weight of my pain, the burn of unshed tears.

    "LITTLE ONE!" The white wolf¡¯s voice erupted in my mind like the lash of a blade. "He wouldn¡¯t want to see you like this! You know this is the only choice we have!"

    Tears streamed down my face, unchecked, as my gaze fell upon Dr. Wolf¡ªhis body still fresh with blood. Beside him, the small creature cowered, looking up at me with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging for safety.

    ¡°DAMN IT!¡± I roared, my voice shattering the silence, heavy with frustration, grief, and helplessness.

    Without another thought, I scooped the pup into my arms, holding it tightly against my chest. Summoning every last ounce of strength I had left, I ran.

    I ran like never before¡ªlungs burning, legs screaming in protest¡ªbut my mind was locked onto a single, unshakable goal: escape.

    But then, to my horror, the Crothyna moved.

    She lurched forward with terrifying speed, her golden eyes locked onto me, that grotesque grin stretching even further¡ªas if my decision to flee was exactly what she had been waiting for.

    And just as she was about to reach me, the white wolf struck.

    A savage howl split the night as she lunged, a flash of pale fur cutting between us.

    The impact was deafening. The force of their collision sent a shockwave through the trees, their clash so violent it made the very ground tremble beneath me.

    "RUN, LITTLE ONE!" Her voice rang through my mind, fierce, desperate.

    I didn¡¯t look back.

    My body moved on its own, driven by raw instinct and adrenaline. I held the trembling pup close to my chest and ran¡ªfaster, harder, through the twisted shadows of the forest.

    The sounds of their battle echoed behind me, but I couldn''t stop. I wouldn¡¯t stop. Every step tore me further from that nightmare, but still, my chest ached, my heart weighed down as if I were leaving something irreplaceable behind.

    The twin moons cast pale light over my path, illuminating the darkness that seemed to close in from every side. Every shadow felt like a threat, every whisper of wind a warning. But I kept running.

    Because I had to honor her sacrifice.

    Because the pup in my arms trusted me.

    Because, more than anything else¡ª

    I was running to survive.

 Fragments of Anger

    The cold night air cut through my skin, but I barely felt it. All my senses were consumed by pain.

    ¡°Huff... huff... huff...¡±

    My breath came in ragged gasps, blending with the muffled sound of my unsteady footsteps on the damp ground. My chest burned as if it would tear apart, my lungs screamed for rest, but stopping wasn¡¯t an option.

    I stumbled. My legs had lost their strength. My body gave in, rolling across the earth as branches and stones scraped against my skin. But even as I fell, my arms instinctively tightened around the pup, shielding it from the impact.

    Pain pulsed through every fiber of my being, but the moment I stopped rolling, I forced myself up again. My legs trembled, threatening to give out, yet I kept running.

    The wind howled through the trees, and the elongated shadows cast by the twin moons seemed to reach out, ready to swallow me whole.

    After what felt like hours¡ªbut was likely just minutes¡ªI realized I had put some distance between myself and the battle. The trees around me were denser now, their twisted branches stretching toward me like claws, and an instinctive sense of unease gripped my body. Something about this part of the forest was wrong.

    My legs finally failed me. I collapsed onto my knees, my body wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

    My vision blurred, tears spilling freely from my golden eyes. I didn¡¯t try to stop them.

    The pup in my arms let out a soft whimper, pressing against me as if it could somehow share my sorrow.

    Reality crashed down on me.

    Dr. Wolf was gone.

    The white she-wolf and what remained of the pack were fighting for their lives.

    And I... I had run.

    I knew I had no other choice, that staying would have meant nothing but another pointless death. But knowing that didn¡¯t make the guilt any easier to bear.

    My fingers dug into the damp earth, trembling with the force of my grip. My lips parted, and a raw, broken cry tore from my throat, echoing through the empty forest. Ragged sobs mixed with the choked sound of my own agony¡ªan agony I didn¡¯t know how to contain, one that overflowed like a river breaking its banks.

    In that moment, for the first time since I arrived in this world, my true age made itself known.

    I wasn¡¯t a warrior.

    I wasn¡¯t a hunter.

    I wasn¡¯t an experienced survivor.

    I wasn¡¯t a fucking Tarzan

    I was just a child.

    Lost in a forest that wanted to devour me, clutching in my arms the only friend I had left.

    My body shook, my breathing was uneven, broken by sobs I couldn¡¯t control. Pain, fear, and exhaustion twisted together into a suffocating knot in my throat.

    Then, a childish voice, laced with sarcasm, cut through the silence from a distance:

    "See? I told you it was pointless to follow this kid. Look at him, crying like a scared little kitten."

    At first, the words reached my ears without meaning¡ªdistant, irrelevant. My world was still drowned in the darkness of my own despair.

    "Oswin, don¡¯t say that!" Another voice spoke, softer, feminine, though hesitant. "He must have a reason for crying."

    Footsteps approached slowly, crunching dry leaves and twigs underfoot.

    "And what reason could that be?" Oswin continued, his tone indifferent, tinged with mild disdain. "We nearly died, and yet here we are, still standing. Even after Hilda¡¯s death, not a single tear fell from our eyes."

    Oswin took another step forward, now standing just behind me. His voice carried impatience.

    "Hey, kid. Do you even know where you¡¯re going? Or is this just your little crying corner?"

    I didn¡¯t answer. I didn¡¯t even look at him. My body remained rigid, and my empty eyes stayed fixed on the damp leaves beneath me.

    Oswin clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "Hey, I¡¯m talking to you!"

    I felt his hand land on my shoulder¡ªa touch that normally wouldn¡¯t have meant anything, but in that moment, it felt like an insult.

    The pup in my arms let out a small whimper, pressing itself closer to me.

    "Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re crying over those wolves?" Oswin scoffed. "They were just animals."

    Those words.

    My heart, drowned in grief just moments ago, stopped for a beat. My mind, clouded by pain, suddenly sharpened.

    I turned my head slowly, my eyes finally locking onto his.

    "What did you just say?"

    Oswin folded his arms, as if my reaction wasn¡¯t what he had expected.

    "Don¡¯t you dare," I muttered, my voice low and cold¡ªa tone I barely recognized as my own. "Those ''animals'' saved your life... at the cost of their own."

    "And I¡¯m supposed to be grateful?" he shot back, his voice dripping with disdain. "They should be grateful they died for someone like me."

    The girl beside him stepped forward, hesitation in her eyes.

    "Oswin, that¡¯s enough."

    But he ignored her.

    "Even that black wolf that got torn apart should be happy his life actually meant something. Not to mention tha¡ª"

    I didn¡¯t hear the rest.

    My body moved on its own.

    My injured fist connected with Oswin¡¯s face in a sharp, brutal impact, sending him stumbling backward. Blood burst from his nose, and before he could even process what had happened, another punch struck him.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    I hit him again, ignoring the pain shooting through my knuckles.

    "Don¡¯t you ever talk about them again."

    Another punch.

    "They are more important than all of you."

    Another punch.

    "More important than every damn member of your Dracknum family."

    My fist kept rising and falling, slamming into Oswin with raw, unrelenting fury. Each hit landed with a dull thud of flesh against flesh, each impact releasing a fragment of the storm raging inside me.

    "You filthy¡ªhow dare you!"

    He tried to fight back, but I dodged effortlessly, my body moving purely on instinct. I lunged at him again, knocking him to the ground with even greater force.

    "ENOUGH!"

    Gloria¡¯s voice split the air like thunder.

    For a fraction of a second, I hesitated.

    That was all Oswin needed.

    He shoved me with all his strength, flipping our positions, and before I could react, he was on top of me, throwing punches with the same fury I had unleashed on him.

    This time, I was the one feeling the sharp sting of each hit, pain snapping across my face like the crack of a whip. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, my body protesting with every impact.

    Oswin¡¯s blows came down like hammer strikes against my raised arms, but I had taken far worse. Compared to the crushing force of the bear that nearly killed me, or the fangs and claws of the wolves during training, his punches were nothing.

    I just needed an opening.

    I gritted my teeth, enduring the pain, my eyes locked on his movements, waiting for the right moment.

    ¡ª "Charge,"¡ª I murmured, trying to channel mana.

    Energy flickered in my hands, but I was still drained from the previous fight. The discharge was weak¡ªbarely enough to send a tingling sensation through Oswin¡¯s muscles.

    But one second of paralysis was all I needed.

    I twisted my body and drove my foot into his chest with every ounce of strength I had left.

    The impact sent him flying backward, rolling across the ground.

    Oswin shot to his feet instantly, spitting out dirt and blood. His glare burned with rage.

    "You bastard, you can use magic!" he snarled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

    I didn¡¯t answer. I simply held my stance.

    The anger on his face darkened into something more sinister, and his entire presence became more menacing.

    "You¡¯ll see who¡¯s really in charge here."

    His nails began to lengthen, sharpening into claws.

    My body tensed. This wasn¡¯t just a burst of aggression¡ªhe was getting ready to fight for real.

    The girl, who had remained on the sidelines until now, finally stepped in.

    "Oswin, stop! We¡¯re in the middle of a dangerous place. If that thing catches up to us¡ª"

    "Gloria, stay out of my way!" he growled, his eyes gleaming with a newfound ferocity. "You know damn well who started this!"

    He lowered himself slightly, shifting into a new stance¡ªone steadier, more predatory.

    I swallowed hard. I couldn¡¯t afford to underestimate him.

    "Get ready to bleed more than those wolves you love so much."

    He lunged.

    I reacted in an instant.

    ¡ª "Breeze" ¡ª

    Magic surged beneath my feet, propelling me forward in a blur.

    We clashed in the middle, my speed just barely allowing me to block his first strike¡ªor so I thought.

    His claws grazed my arm, leaving a shallow but searing cut.

    ¡®Shit.¡¯ I cursed internally, but I didn¡¯t hesitate.

    I used the proximity to my advantage, grabbing his wrist with one hand. With the other, I summoned fire.

    ¡ª "Flame." ¡ª

    Heat surged in my palm, ready to scorch his face.

    But Oswin was faster.

    With a swift movement, he leaped back, slipping from my grip. My fire missed its mark, vanishing into the air.

    I clenched my teeth. ¡®Fine, then¡­¡¯

    I ignored every warning of exhaustion screaming through my body. If I wanted to end this quickly, I had to take a risk.

    ¡ª "Droplet." ¡ª

    A small, unstable sphere of water formed at my fingertip.

    Oswin charged again.

    ¡ª "Charge." ¡ª

    Electricity crackled through the sphere.

    ¡ª "Breeze." ¡ª

    Magic burst beneath my feet, launching me toward him like a bullet.

    Oswin didn¡¯t flinch. He lunged, claws aimed straight for my flesh.

    We were inches apart.

    My electrified sphere was already aimed at him.

    His claws were ready to tear into my chest.

    And then¡ª

    Thud!

    A sudden impact stopped everything.

    Our magic was neutralized before either of us could land a hit.

    My hand was pushed aside¡ªso was Oswin¡¯s.

    The interference was so fast and precise that it took a full second for my mind to process what had happened.

    Between us, a figure had appeared, blocking our attacks with infuriating ease.

    My palm was still touching his, but the sphere of electricity I had created had vanished, as if it had been absorbed or dispersed the instant we made contact. Meanwhile, Oswin¡¯s wrist was caught in an iron grip, his claws frozen just short of piercing my skin.

    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± the boy¡¯s voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if he were dealing with a couple of idiots. ¡°You two are seriously out of your minds.¡±

    He was slightly taller than me, but he didn¡¯t seem much older. His wavy black hair fell messily to his neck, contrasting against his dark skin and sharp golden eyes, which gleamed under the crimson moonlight.

    The Dracknum bloodline was unmistakable in him.

    Oswin¡¯s eyes widened. The rage and ferocity on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by sudden shock.

    ¡°How dare you interru¡ª¡±

    But the moment his gaze truly focused on the boy, his voice faltered.

    The newcomer tilted his head slightly, his stare as sharp as a blade.

    ¡°Dare what?¡± he shot back, his tone disinterested yet carrying an undeniable authority that needed no explanation.

    Silence fell between us.

    Oswin didn¡¯t answer.

    Neither did I.

    Gloria, who had been watching with wide eyes, pressed her lips together, her expression caught between surprise and barely contained relief.

    The boy let go of both of us with an almost lazy motion, as if already bored with the situation. As he stepped back, I noticed small traces of dirt crumbling from his arm¡ªthe same one that had stopped my attack.

    Earth element?

    My gaze swept over him, taking in the details. His clothes were made of animal hide, much better crafted than mine. A crude bow hung across his back, seemingly fashioned from sturdy branches and flexible vines. At his waist, a dull-bladed dagger rested alongside a belt packed with small pouches and a worn leather canteen, the kind used by nomads.

    Even sandals?

    Annoyance flared within me. He was well-equipped, clearly used to surviving in this environment. Compared to him, I looked like a ragged drifter who had barely escaped death.

    The stranger snapped his fingers, snapping me out of my thoughts.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said, not even bothering to look at us. ¡°Now that we¡¯re done with this pathetic display, can someone tell me why the hell you¡¯re wasting time fighting¡­ while the forest is bleeding?¡±

 Three Options

    Gloria blinked a few times, as if struggling to find the right words. Her gaze shifted between me and Oswin, then to the newly arrived boy. Finally, she took a deep breath and decided to speak.

    "Well, what happened was..."

    <hr>

    As we walked, Gloria explained everything to the unknown boy. He advised us to keep moving while we talked¡ªaccording to him, standing still in the middle of the forest, especially in a situation like this, was just asking for trouble.

    "So, to sum it up..." The boy, who was walking a few steps ahead of us, turned around to face us, now walking backward with one arm crossed over his chest and the other hand resting on his chin in thought. His balance was flawless, as if he was completely at ease moving through the forest, not even needing to look at where he stepped.

    "You two," he gestured toward Oswin and Gloria with an easy, almost lazy motion,

    "Along with a third friend, were running from an incredibly powerful Magical Beast. In the middle of your escape, your friend didn¡¯t make it. You followed the sounds of the forest and ran into this guy," now pointing at me, "Followed him, only for him to start bawling like a little kid. And in the midst of all that, you two started fighting because one of you thought it was a good idea to provoke him?"

    I clenched my teeth. ¡®Unfortunately, that¡¯s exactly what happened.¡¯

    Oswin scoffed, crossing his arms.

    "You, Oswin, right? You¡¯re a complete idiot." Nikolas¡¯ tone was light, almost indifferent, but the sharp edge of disdain was impossible to miss.

    "With everything going on¡ªthe state of the forest, that thing still out there hunting you¡ªyou thought now was the perfect time to stir up trouble?"

    Oswin gritted his teeth and looked away.

    "And you," Nikolas turned to me,

    "Letting yourself get baited like some rookie, especially when you''re already beaten up? A hunter should always stay in control, no matter the situation."

    I frowned, anger bubbling up. "Would you stay in control if someone mocked your family''s death?"

    For a brief moment, Nikolas stared at me in silence. Then, a cold, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

    "Of course. And then, I¡¯d wait for the right moment to make them pay. Piece by piece."

    His voice was so icy that even Gloria shivered beside me.

    Oswin clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "Shouldn¡¯t you introduce yourself before lecturing everyone?" His voice was laced with irritation.

    Nikolas tilted his head slightly, as if only just realizing his oversight. "Fair point. How rude of me."

    He then placed a hand over his chest and gave a small bow, his tone dripping with theatrical irony.

    "Nikolas Beaumont."

    At the mention of his name, Oswin muttered a low curse, barely audible. "Just a collateral lineage..."

    Nikolas smirked but said nothing. "And you?"

    Gloria was the first to answer, instinctively gripping the pendant around her neck.

    "Gloria Le Dracknum," she said, her voice slightly hesitant, as if unsure whether she should reveal her name.

    "Oswin," he said reluctantly, crossing his arms.

    Then Nikolas turned to me. "And you? What¡¯s your name?"

    For a moment, I hesitated. I didn¡¯t want to reveal it, but at the same time, I knew I didn¡¯t have much of a choice. If I was going to stick with them, hiding my identity would be pointless. Besides, Nikolas clearly knew the forest better than any of us.

    I let out a quiet sigh and said,

    "Alexander W. The Dracknum."

    The silence that followed was almost tangible.

    Nikolas raised an eyebrow in surprise. Gloria and Oswin, on the other hand, looked outright stunned. But then something curious happened¡ªdespite their initial shock, their expressions didn¡¯t change much. They still looked at me the same way.

    After all, in Dracknum, it didn¡¯t matter who your father was. If you didn¡¯t prove your worth, you were just another meaningless name.

    Nikolas remained silent for a moment before crossing his arms and letting out a low whistle.

    "Huh."

    That was it. No bow, no flattery. Just a brief reaction followed by a shrug.

    Before anyone could say anything, Gloria brought the conversation back to what had been bothering her.

    "Earlier, you said¡­ the forest is bleeding?" Her voice carried hesitation, as if she wasn¡¯t sure whether it was just a metaphor or something far worse.

    Nikolas lifted a hand and gestured broadly around us, as if pointing out something obvious.

    "Look around, kids." His tone was calm, but there was a weight to his words that made me swallow hard. "Two moons in the sky. One normal, the other¡­ blood-red."

    He raised his eyes to the sky, where the crimson glow of the Blood Moon cast everything in an oppressive, red hue.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    "The beasts have gone mad. The mana density in the forest has skyrocketed. And on top of that¡­"

    He lowered his hand and closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if sensing something in the air.

    "There¡¯s this¡­ repulsive energy seeping into everything."

    When Nikolas opened his eyes again, they were sharp as a blade.

    "So yes, Gloria. The forest is bleeding."

    Gloria clutched the pendant around her neck even tighter, her expression heavy with concern.

    Oswin scoffed, crossing his arms. "That doesn¡¯t explain shit. What the hell does ¡®the forest is bleeding¡¯ even mean?"

    Nikolas turned to him, a humorless smile tugging at his lips.

    "It means exactly what it sounds like, Oswin. Something was broken. Something that was never meant to be touched. And now, the forest itself is paying the price."

    His words made my thoughts drift back to the White Wolf, the sudden changes in the beasts¡¯ behavior, the black bear that had come back to life¡­

    "You think this has something to do with the seals?" I asked, my voice more hesitant than I would have liked.

    Nikolas glanced at me from the corner of his eye and clicked his tongue.

    "Hard to say for sure without proof, but¡­ yeah. Most likely, someone broke one of the ancient seals of the Black Forest. And if that¡¯s the case, we¡¯re all screwed."

    Silence fell over us like a sharpened blade.

    Oswin looked away, his fists clenched.

    Gloria grew increasingly restless, her golden eyes glowing with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

    I simply stared at the ground, struggling to process everything.

    Nikolas, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem the least bit shaken. He just sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair.

    "Well, standing around sulking won¡¯t do us any good. We need to decide what to do next."

    "What do you mean?" I asked, still somewhat dazed.

    Nikolas smirked slightly. "I mean we have three options."

    He held up three fingers.

    "Option one: we keep running aimlessly and hope we don¡¯t run into something worse."

    He lowered one finger.

    "Option two: we find a safe place and wait for all this shit to blow over¡ªwhich might be a terrible idea, considering no one knows what the hell is going on."

    Another finger went down.

    "Or¡­"

    He left the last finger up, his expression turning more serious.

    "Option three: we track down the source of this and deal with it before it gets even worse."

    I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling up inside me.

    "Easy for you to say." My voice came out harsher than I intended. "I just lost a friend."

    The White Wolf and the rest of the pack could be dead right now.

    "I¡¯m not exactly in the mood to play hero."

    Nikolas watched me for a moment, his sharp eyes studying every inch of my expression. Then, he gave a small smile¡ªnot mocking, not condescending.

    "Good." He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "We don¡¯t have the same reasons, but I agree with you."

    My anger dulled slightly, replaced by a brief flicker of surprise.

    Nikolas sighed and glanced at the dense forest around us, his expression turning contemplative.

    "Let¡¯s be realistic," he began, his voice more measured now. "We don¡¯t have the strength to face whatever the hell caused all this."

    Gloria lowered her head, gripping her pendant even tighter.

    Oswin scoffed, looking away, clearly unsettled.

    Nikolas, however, turned his gaze back to me, his eyes now sharp¡ªlike a blade poised to strike.

    "But that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re just going to¡ª"

    "Shh!"

    Oswin cut him off abruptly, raising a hand to silence us. His face hardened in concentration.

    "I hear something."

    Before anyone could ask what he meant, Oswin instinctively crouched, his movements fluid¡ªlike a predator sensing an invisible threat.

    I narrowed my eyes as I watched him press his palms against the damp earth. His expression turned serious, his jaw tensing slightly.

    And then, to my surprise, he lowered his head even further, bringing his ear mere inches from the ground.

    "What the hell is he doing?" I murmured, frowning as I glanced questioningly at Gloria and Nikolas.

    Gloria looked worried, but not surprised.

    Nikolas, on the other hand, observed with genuine interest, as if analyzing something intriguing.

    Oswin remained completely still for a second, his chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths. Then, suddenly, his eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head in a sharp, urgent motion.

    "Something¡¯s moving¡­ and it¡¯s coming straight for us."

    His voice was low, but the urgency in it was undeniable.

    Oswin barely finished speaking before a sharp sound sliced through the air.

    Swoosh!

    "Watch out!" Nikolas shouted.

    Everything happened too fast.

    In a single fluid motion, he grabbed Gloria by the arm and yanked her aside, both of them rolling across the dirt to get out of the way.

    Oswin moved just in time, dodging the attack by mere inches, the air around him violently sucked away as he twisted his body to escape.

    As for me¡­ my body reacted before my mind even registered the danger.

    A burst of wind exploded beneath my feet, launching me backward. I hit the ground hard, sliding across the rough earth, small rocks and twigs scraping against my skin as I rolled away from the impact.

    Then came the sound.

    CRACK!

    A deep, jagged gash split the ground where we had been standing just moments ago. The earth tore apart in a grotesque line, as if something invisible had sliced straight through it. The impact was so violent that chunks of dirt and dust were thrown into the air, creating a thick cloud of debris.

    I stayed still for a moment, my breath uneven, my heart pounding against my ribs.

    What the hell was that¡­?

    My eyes widened as I took in the dark scar cutting through the ground, stretching far beyond where we had been, slicing through everything in its path. The trees nearby had been grazed, their bark split open like raw wounds¡ªsome of them already leaning, on the verge of collapse.

    I swallowed hard.

    If we had hesitated even a second longer¡­

    "What the fuck was that?!" My voice came out rough, but no one answered immediately.

    Nikolas was already on his feet, his golden eyes glowing with alertness, his stance tense¡ªlike a predator ready to strike.

    Gloria trembled slightly beside him, but she held her ground.

    Oswin clenched his jaw, his fists tightening.

    "I think Options Two and Three are off the table now."

 Crushing Pressure

    The scent of iron clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The wet, heavy sound of something hitting the ground echoed through the space, blending with the restless rustling of leaves all around.

    "Fuck! Damn it!" Warwick roared, his voice laced with pure fury and disbelief.

    His severed arm lay on the ground, still twitching with involuntary spasms, blood spurting erratically from the raw, mangled stump. His wide eyes reflected a mixture of shock and hatred as the full force of the pain finally crashed down on him.

    But the golden-eyed boy saw none of it. He refused to open his eyes. His fingers had gone white from how tightly he clutched the scroll in his hands, as if it might slip away at any moment. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mingling with the droplets of blood splattered around him.

    ¡®Almost there¡­¡¯

    He couldn¡¯t stop. Not now. The energy being drained from the scroll made his limbs tremble, but he forced himself to push forward, ignoring the chaos around him. Ignoring the sound of steel slicing through the air, Warwick¡¯s enraged screams, the dry crack of the earth splitting apart beneath something he couldn¡¯t begin to understand.

    A few meters away, a deep fissure stretched across the ground, cleaving the forest in a flawless divide, as though an invisible blade had carved right through it. At the center of the destruction, the man from the Dracknum family stood unshaken, his claymore gleaming under the pale moonlight. His previously indifferent gaze now carried a deadly intensity.

    Slowly, he raised his blade, spinning it with effortless precision before resting it on his shoulder. Then, a smile appeared on his face¡ªa calm smile, yet filled with something that sent a chill down Darius¡¯s spine.

    "I regret any distress caused, but the moment has come to expel you."

    Darius didn¡¯t hesitate. His instincts flared before his mind could even process the words. In an instant, he leaped backward, narrowly avoiding another lightning-fast slash that descended from the sky in a vertical arc.

    Warwick wasn¡¯t as lucky.

    His body was sent flying with brutal force, twisting through the air before crashing against a nearby tree. A bestial roar of agony tore from his throat as blood gushed from his freshly mutilated shoulder.

    Darius, now without his hood, revealed a pale, chiseled face, his crimson eyes burning with fury. His short, silvery-blond hair stood in stark contrast to the cold, unyielding expression that had settled over his features.

    But the Dracknum warrior gave no room for hesitation.

    He surged forward with astonishing speed, his claymore carving through the air in a deadly arc aimed straight at Darius, intent on cutting down any hope of resistance.

    ¡°Inconceivable¡­¡± he murmured, his voice calm, yet carrying the weight of imminent death.

    Darius moved at the last possible instant, and where his body had been just a heartbeat before, only shadows remained¡ªshadows and a swirling mass of bats scattering across the battlefield.

    ¡°How delightful¡­ a vampire.¡± The man raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

    The bats wheeled through the air, coalescing in a dark whirlwind beside Warwick. In an instant, Darius reformed, his movements seamless, fluid. In his grasp, Warwick¡¯s severed arm, still warm.

    Warwick clenched his teeth, his fist trembling.

    ¡°Just do it, Darius!¡±

    ¡°Shut up! I¡¯m not the one who was careless enough to lose an arm!¡±

    His voice was sharp, but his gaze remained steady, focused. With a practiced motion, he pressed the severed limb against the bloodied stump. A deep crimson glow emanated from his hands. The torn flesh, the exposed muscle, the shredded nerves¡ªeach began to twist and writhe, like living serpents seeking one another. Congealed blood pulsed and stirred, flowing back toward the severed limb like invisible threads weaving an unholy tapestry.

    The connection was forged in mere seconds.

    A sickening snap echoed as the bones locked into place.

    Warwick let out a guttural groan, his entire body shuddering. But then¡ªhe flexed his fingers. First, a faint twitch. Then, his fist closed fully.

    A twisted grin spread across his face. ¡°Perfect.¡±

    The Dracknum warrior watched in silence, tilting his head slightly. And then, slowly, a new smile took shape on his lips¡ªnot just of amusement, but of something deeper. Satisfaction.

    ¡°Well, well¡­ this grows ever more fascinating.¡± His grin widened, fingers tightening around his sword¡¯s hilt as if the steel had become but an extension of his very being.

    The blade began to glow, engulfed by a swirling blue energy. And before any reaction could come, he was already moving¡ªhis body flowing with the deadly grace of a predator, his sword carving through the air with razor-sharp precision.

    When steel met Warwick¡¯s fist, the impact rang out¡ªa metallic, piercing clash that reverberated through the trees.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one who knows how to use Aura,¡± Warwick shouted, a wide grin splitting his face. His eyes burned with fierce intensity as an orange energy flared to life around his fists. His arms darkened, as if shadows were seeping into his skin, coating it in a dense, metallic black sheen.

    The energies collided with an explosive force, sending violent ripples through the forest. Leaves whipped into the air, the ground beneath them cracked and trembled under the strain.

    Warwick did not falter. His muscles coiled, his grin stretching wider¡ªwild, exhilarated.

    ¡°This fight is just getting started!¡± he growled, his fists radiating with raw, unbridled power.

    The Dracknum warrior held his stance, his golden gaze assessing the opponent with cold precision. His sword pulsed with vibrant blue energy, humming as if it were an extension of his very being.

    Warwick lunged forward, the earth splitting beneath his feet as his strikes came down with relentless force. The clearing resounded with the clash of fists against blade¡ªthunderous echoes of steel and sheer brute strength.

    "Ah¡­ then let us ascertain the extent to which this will carry us." the Dracknum murmured, his voice firm yet eerily composed, as if, for him, the battle had only just begun.

    The fight escalated. Warwick¡¯s blows came heavy and devastating, each strike seeking to crush. The golden-eyed warrior danced between them with calculated precision, deflecting each attack at the very last moment. Sparks of blue and red crackled through the air¡ªa violent symphony of clashing energies.

    And then, in a fleeting instant, the battlefield shifted.

    A new threat emerged.

    ¡°Well done, Warwick.¡±

    The voice sliced through the chaos like a dagger.

    Darius.

    Like a pale specter rising from the abyss, he moved with eerie silence. His hands, cloaked in a crimson, bloodthirsty glow, bore elongated claws¡ªunnatural, deadly.

    The Dracknum warrior sensed the danger at the very last moment.

    Darius emerged behind him, his claws slicing through the air, aimed straight for his neck¡ªa killing blow.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    But the young Dracknum reacted with the precision of a seasoned fighter.

    He inhaled. His feet shifted subtly against the ground.

    He exhaled. His body turned in a single, fluid motion¡ªsharp, controlled.

    The blue blade intercepted Darius¡¯s strike by mere inches, steel hissing as it redirected the lethal attack.

    Warwick seized the opening, his fist rocketing forward, aiming straight for the young warrior¡¯s ribs.

    Yet, the Dracknum did not hesitate.

    In an unnatural movement, he twisted his sword toward himself¡ªits point aimed directly at his own chest.

    And then, with unwavering force¡ª

    He drove the blade through his own body and released it.

    The sword, still shrouded in vibrant blue energy, pierced through his torso without shedding a single drop of blood or leaving so much as a wound and shot forward like a radiant spear.

    Warwick hesitated for the briefest of moments.

    ¡°What¡­?¡±

    His eyes widened as he watched the blade seemingly pierce through his opponent¡¯s body. And in that single heartbeat of doubt¡ªhe lost his chance.

    Like a lightning strike, the Dracknum warrior spun and seized the still-airborne blade, pulling it forward in a vertical slash.

    Warwick barely had time to react. He raised his arms, bracing for impact¡ª

    But the strike never came.

    Instead, the Dracknum halted the swing mid-motion¡­ and then, without warning, lunged forward.

    With razor-sharp precision, he drove the blade deep into Warwick¡¯s shoulder.

    The brute¡¯s expression froze. His teeth clenched as the impact reverberated through his body. Slowly, blood trickled down the steel, dripping onto the ground with a dull, rhythmic sound.

    ¡°FINALLY!¡± The boy with the scroll shouted, his voice bursting with euphoria as it echoed through the clearing.

    The parchment trembled in his hands, its arcane circles flickering weakly before unraveling, consumed by the very energy they had channeled. The magic inscribed upon it had served its purpose.

    ¡°Took you long enough!¡± Darius appeared at his side, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched the fractures in the barrier spread. The foul stench seeping from the other side grew stronger with each passing second.

    ¡°Warwick, move it! Time to vanish!¡±

    But Warwick didn¡¯t seem inclined to follow orders.

    With the blade still buried in his shoulder, he let out a low, ragged laugh¡ªwild, untamed, as if the pain only fueled his hunger for battle.

    ¡°Damn it¡­ and just when things were getting fun¡­¡±

    That was when the air changed.

    The Dracknum warrior tilted his head ever so slightly, golden eyes gleaming with something primitive, something ravenous.

    With nothing more than a thought

    He unleashed his Aura.

    The world seemed to crush around them.

    A suffocating force filled the space, dense and overwhelming.

    Darius, Warwick, and the noble boy froze mid-motion, their bodies locking in place, as if the very gravity of the battlefield had tripled. An instinctive, primal chill ran down their spines.

    "And who," the Dracknum¡¯s voice, scarcely more than a whisper, yet reverberating through the air with the weight of a storm, "granted you the audacity to forsake this place?"

    Their eyes widened in unison. Sweat trickled down their temples.

    "You have tarried beyond what is permissible." His expression remained an enigma, yet his tone was laced with frigid contempt.

    The air around him trembled, his Aura coiling and shifting¡ªlike a storm on the verge of breaking loose.

    "And now that the moment has at last come to pass..."

    The tip of the blade buried in Warwick twisted ever so slightly, earning a muffled grunt of pain.

    The Dracknum took a single step forward.

    ¡°You think you will escape?¡±

    And in that moment, Darius and Warwick realized the obvious.

    "We need to get rid of this lunatic!"

    Oswin clenched his teeth, his golden eyes locked onto the battle ahead.

    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, what are you all waiting for? Let¡¯s get the hell out of here!¡±

    ¡°And how exactly do you propose we do that?!¡± I shot back, keeping my voice low to avoid drawing attention.

    ¡°Look at that fight¡ªdo you really think we can just walk through unscathed? Or would you rather retreat and run straight into her? Into the Crothyna?¡±

    Oswin fell silent.

    Nikolas, who had been watching quietly, let out a sigh and crossed his arms.

    ¡°Alexander¡¯s right. Besides, even if that guy is from the Dracknum family, we¡¯d only get in the way if we were spotted. I have no intention of becoming a hostage¡­ or a burden to anyone. Especially not to him.¡±

    His gaze settled on the claymore-wielding swordsman. The respect in his tone didn¡¯t go unnoticed. He knew who that warrior was.

    At the center of the battlefield, where the clearing had been scarred by chaos, a man with long black hair and severe, almost regal attire stood, wielding an ornately adorned claymore. His movements were fluid, precise¡ªevery attack like a step in a dance rehearsed countless times before.

    And against him stood two adversaries.

    The two criminals moved in deadly harmony, their strikes quick and ruthless, probing his defenses. Yet, despite their relentless assault, not a single one of their attacks had so much as grazed him.

    A few steps away, Gl¨®ria tugged on Oswin¡¯s sleeve, forcing him to turn toward her.

    ¡°Oswin¡­ they¡¯re right. Remember that attack from before?¡±

    He hesitated¡ªbut I saw it. The moment realization struck.

    The attack that had forced us into hiding.

    That flawless cut that sliced through the earth as if it were nothing more than parchment. It hadn¡¯t even been aimed at us, and yet we had no choice but to flee.

    And now, those enemies were standing against the very person who had unleashed that strike¡ªand they were still alive.

    Oswin bit his lower lip, his fists clenching tight.

    Oswin clenched his fists, his jaw locked tight. He knew. We all knew. We didn¡¯t stand a chance here.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± he spat, grinding his teeth.

    For some reason, after minutes of watching the battle unfold in the distance, a heavy silence had settled over the forest. The relentless clang of metal against metal had vanished. One of the mercenaries was gone from sight. Now, only the swordsman and the remaining opponent remained visible.

    ¡°Could it be a stalemate?¡± I murmured, trying to make sense of the sudden stillness.

    But before anyone could answer¡ª

    A crushing force collapsed upon the world.

    My chest tightened. My breath caught. It felt as though an invisible weight was pressing me into the ground, threatening to bury me beneath it.

    ¡°What is this?!¡± I gasped, my knees nearly buckling.

    ¡°A-AH!¡±

    Gl¨®ria screamed¡ªthen her body crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

    ¡°Nikolas!¡± Oswin barked, his breathing ragged, his body trembling beneath the pressure. ¡°What¡¯s happening?! Why did Gl¨®ria pass out?!¡±

    Nikolas gritted his teeth, his forehead creased in deep concentration. Even he, the one among us most prepared for the dangers of this forest, was struggling under the sheer force pressing down on us.

    ¡°It¡¯s him¡­¡± he muttered, his voice low and tight with tension. ¡°His Aura¡­ the sheer pressure of it¡­ Gl¨®ria just couldn¡¯t take it.¡±

    My heart pounded faster. I had never felt anything like this before.

    The King¡¯s pressure had been absolute, overwhelming¡ªbut it had never made me feel like I was about to break.

    This one was different.

    It was wild. Ruthless. A bloodlust so raw and unchained that, for the first time, I truly believed I could die at any second.

    Looking at him, I could perceive his aura, an intimidating presence that seemed to envelop his entire being. Around him, the bluish energy slowly shaped itself, taking the form of a spotted lion, its long, flowing mane moving with the force of an invisible wind. It was as if he were a caged beast that had finally broken free, only to seek revenge on its captor.

    Oswin staggered, sweat pouring down his face.

    ¡°But he was winning, wasn¡¯t he?! He didn¡¯t need to unleash this¡­ He could¡¯ve just focused the pressure on his opponent, right?! Why release it against everything and everyone?!¡±

    I tried to answer¡ªbut even breathing had become a struggle.

    The invisible weight crushed down harder, my muscles trembling under the strain. And then¡ª

    A chill shot down my spine.

    It felt as though something ancient and starving had just set its sights on us.

    ¡°¡­She¡¯s here¡­¡± Oswin¡¯s whisper was barely a breath. His skin had gone deathly pale, his entire body quivering.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to die¡­¡±

    The entire forest seemed to hold its breath.

    The Hunter and the Prey had been chosen.

    And we were on the wrong side of the equation.

    In that moment, the cub in my arms, surprisingly awake, started to cry. And a sharp pain pierced through my chest, as if I had lost something I would never get back.

    <hr>

 The Secret of the Central Area

    The Dracknum family is known as the enforcers of the kingdom¡¯s law¡ªbut not in the conventional sense. They are neither judges nor bureaucrats; they are hunters of those who dare call themselves hunters. Predators who prowl the shadows of the noble world, preying on the powerful who believe themselves to be at the top of the food chain. Their presence serves as a silent warning to those who seek to bend the law to their will: there is no escape¡ªnot for kings, not for nobles, not even for titans.

    Yet, contrary to what one might expect, this immense power has never corrupted them with arrogance or reckless ambition. The throne? A worthless burden in their eyes. Glory, wealth, recognition? Nothing but meaningless distractions. The Dracknum abide by a single law: the law of the strong. To them, ruling a kingdom would be a prison, a chain that would bind their existence and true purpose.

    For this reason, they chose to establish themselves in the Black Forest, an ancient and untamed land where one of the portals to the Demon Realm lies, sealed by an ancestral barrier. A cursed region, feared even by the bravest. But to the Dracknum, this was the ultimate hunting ground¡ªa place where only the strong survived and where their code was constantly put to the test.

    The Black Forest was divided into five sectors: North, South, East, West, and Central. Each sector forms part of the first layer of the Demon Forest¡¯s seal, a mystical barrier preventing demonic entities from escaping into the outside world. Every zone has its own wild and hostile ecosystem, ruled by two forces: a magical beast, sovereign of the creatures within, and a member of the Dracknum family, aided by the Forest Rangers¡ªsilent and ruthless sentinels against any threat. But the Central sector¡­ that was different.

    There, at the very heart of the Black Forest, lay a secret that only the Dracknum patriarchs dared to confront. No human, aside from them, ever set foot on that forbidden ground. Only the beast reigned there¡ªan entity as ancient as the forest itself. The twisted trees whispered tales of an age long past, and the shadows seemed to move on their own, as if they were something more than the mere absence of light.

    Luminus walked in silence beside Thomas Dracknum, his father. The narrow path ahead was illuminated only by sparse bioluminescent fungi clinging to the tree trunks, casting an eerie green glow in the gloom. The sky¡¯s light dared not touch this land. The air was dense, thick with the scent of damp earth and something else¡ªsomething indefinable, an odor that stirred a primal instinct of caution.

    They had arrived.

    The nest of the Central Sector¡¯s ruler was no mere refuge¡ªit was a living throne, woven from branches as black as the night, twisted and interlaced with bones long forgotten by time. A crushing presence emanated from that structure, as if the very forest itself breathed in reverence.

    From the heart of that throne of darkness, golden eyes gleamed, piercing through the shadows. A voice echoed¡ªdeep, laced with something unfathomable, something that made the skin crawl and reverberated through the bones.

    "Thadeus¡­ it has been quite some time since you last came here."

    Luminus felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of that voice. It did not belong to a mere beast. And then¡ªit moved.

    The colossal creature began to emerge from the darkness, its form shifting like an ever-changing illusion. At first, it appeared as a monstrous bear, then something larger¡ªperhaps a dragon. A moment later, its outline morphed into that of a griffin, then a massive serpent, and finally, it became something Luminus could not define. His mind struggled to make sense of what he was seeing¡ªbut it failed.

    Then, from the shadows, a man emerged.

    Of average height, with short hair and impeccably formal attire. But as he stepped closer, Luminus felt a sharp, cutting chill. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

    That man had no face.

    Smooth skin stretched over where his eyes, nose, and mouth should have been, triggering a primal, instinctive alarm in Luminus¡¯s mind.

    "How¡­ how is this possible?" he murmured, unable to tear his gaze away.

    Beside him, Thomas remained impassive, his voice steady as he declared:

    "Luminus, look well. This is the oldest and most powerful beast of the Black Forest. The last of its kind, and also the Guardian of Dracknum. Thanatos Loki Ke Dracknum¡ªa Shapeshifter."

    A suffocating silence stretched between them before the creature spoke again, its voice now laced with an almost amused sarcasm.

    "Thadeus, Thadeus¡­ why have you not visited me in so long?"

    The voice came from everywhere at once. Luminus blinked¡ªand in that instant, the faceless figure was no longer where it had stood.

    Instead, it now leaned casually over Thomas¡¯s shoulder, as if it had always been there. The whisper that followed was almost intimate¡ªyet it carried a cruel, unbearable weight.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    "Could it be because of Mar¡­"

    A crash interrupted him.

    The forest trembled. The air grew heavy¡ªalmost impossible to breathe. The sheer pressure emanating from Thomas Dracknum was overwhelming, crushing like the wrath of a Dragon. The ground beneath his feet cracked, fissures snaking across the earth like open veins.

    But Thanatos only laughed¡ªa low, amused chuckle. He didn¡¯t move. Not an inch.

    ¡°Father¡­¡± Luminus murmured, feeling the weight of that force press against his very existence.

    Thomas gradually eased the pressure, but his eyes remained as cold as a drawn blade.

    "Do not speak that name again."

    His voice was sharp as ice, controlled yet laced with an unspoken threat.

    Thanatos smiled. Or at least, Luminus had the distinct impression that he did, though his face remained featureless.

    "Oh¡­ but of course, my old friend," he replied, his voice dripping with wicked amusement.

    The patriarch ignored the provocation. His gaze didn¡¯t waver, his breath remained steady.

    "I have no time for these trivial games. Take us to the breach."

    Thanatos raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture, feigning confusion.

    "Breach?" he echoed, his tone filled with mock innocence. "Whatever do you mean, Thadeus?"

    Thomas''s eyes narrowed. His voice stayed calm, but there was a distinct weight behind his words.

    "Loki."

    For a moment, silence spread through the trees.

    Then, without haste, Thomas adjusted his black leather gloves with precise, deliberate movements.

    "I shouldn¡¯t have to say this, but some idiot has broken one of the seal¡¯s layers."

    "Which means the Blood Moon has descended upon us," Thomas concluded, his words heavy.

    Thanatos remained silent for a moment, tilting his head upward as if sensing something. Then, he let out a theatrical sigh.

    "So that''s why I feel two energies coming from the sky¡­" he murmured, dragging out his words with irony. "Interesting."

    Thomas scoffed, crossing his arms.

    "And here I am, cleaning up the mess your negligence caused."

    Thanatos chuckled again, shaking his head slightly.

    "Ah, always so diligent, Thadeus¡­" He waved a hand dismissively, as if Thomas were nothing more than an insistent courier. "And what exactly do you expect me to do?"

    "How about being a good ancestor and opening the way?"

    For a brief moment, the air froze.

    Thomas¡¯s eyes burned with an intense golden glow, like embers stoked by a stormy wind. A golden aura erupted around him, undulating like ethereal flames.

    This time, the pressure that followed wasn¡¯t an overwhelming, unfocused burst¡ªbut something precise, meticulously controlled. Like a blade sliding across an enemy¡¯s throat, the force concentrated entirely on Thanatos, closing in around him like a storm on the verge of breaking.

    Yet, once again, he acted as if nothing was happening.

    With an air of complete nonchalance, he began pacing back and forth, hand resting on his chin, like a philosopher mulling over a trivial question.

    "Hmm¡­" he muttered, turning one way.

    Then, he turned the other.

    "Hmm¡­"

    He paused dramatically, tapping his foot against the ground as if performing a scene for an invisible audience.

    "¡­"

    Suddenly, Thanatos snapped his fingers and struck his fist against his palm, his unseen eyes lighting up as if he had just had a brilliant revelation.

    "I got it!" he exclaimed, his voice exaggeratedly childlike.

    But just as quickly as his theatrical enthusiasm had appeared, it faded into a bored sigh.

    "Letting you through would be pointless. The breach is closed."

    His voice had lost all amusement, now drawn-out and laden with deep annoyance.

    Thadeus raised an eyebrow.

    Thanatos sighed again, dramatically.

    "You don¡¯t believe me? Then see for yourself."

    With another snap of his fingers, one of the blocked paths¡ªonce sealed by thick, ancient trunks¡ªbegan to shift. It opened slowly, as if the forest itself yielded to his command. The space widened before them, revealing a passage¡­

    But beyond it, there was only darkness.

    A thick, endless shadow¡ªdeep and unfathomable, like an abyss that devoured even the faintest light.

    Luminus and Thadeus turned to look.

    The young man held his breath. He saw nothing beyond that void. No trace of light, no sound, no sign of what might lie on the other side. Only endless, suffocating darkness.

    ¡®What could possibly be beyond that?¡¯

    "Whoever was on the other side sensed my mana, refused to come out, and forcibly shut the breach." Thanatos let out a long, disappointed sigh, shaking his head like a teacher watching a failing student.

    "Pathetic. Can''t even die for his own freedom."

    Thadeus wasted no time. After staring into the abyss for a few moments, he turned with firm resolve.

    "Luminus, we¡¯re leaving."

    The young man hesitated for a brief second before following.

    "Leaving already?" Thanatos whined, slipping back into his exaggerated childlike voice. "Come on now, it''s been ages since your last visit¡­"

    Thadeus kept walking without so much as a glance back. His posture was steady, his expression unchanging.

    But as he reached the exit, Thanatos¡¯s voice shifted.

    "Thadeus." This time, his tone was heavier¡ªladen with something deeper.

    "The sand has already begun to fall. Your time is running out."

    Thadeus paused for a brief moment but didn¡¯t answer. He simply kept moving, vanishing into the darkness of the forest.

    Thanatos smiled¡ªor at least, it felt as if he did.

 Tearing The Veil

    In the northern part of the Black Forest, near the breach.

    The cold breeze sliced through the trees like invisible blades, carrying the damp scent of earth and decaying leaves. The pale light of the twin moons dripped through the gnarled branches, casting restless shadows that danced in the wind.

    Perched atop a withered, timeworn tree, a man sat on one of the thickest branches. His camouflaged clothing blended seamlessly into the darkness around him. A hood obscured most of his face, but his eyes glinted with impatience as he gazed at the starry sky.

    ¡°When the hell are those damn demons gonna show up, huh?¡± he muttered, swinging one leg idly in the empty air.

    At the base of the tree, another man leaned against the dry trunk, arms crossed, looking just as bored. His posture was relaxed, but his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings like a predator watching its prey.

    ¡°The first seal¡¯s barely broken,¡± he replied, his deep voice slow and measured. ¡°No demons are coming out. At best, some magical beasts with a trace of demonic blood¡­ and if we¡¯re lucky, one worth hunting.¡±

    The man on the branch scoffed and leaned back, resting his weight against the dead trunk.

    ¡°Then why the hell are we even here, waiting for this damn seal to break completely? Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to just patch it up?¡±

    The other man rolled his eyes and let out a long, tired sigh.

    ¡°Man¡­ how are you still a Forest Guard?¡± He straightened slightly, dusting off his cloak before continuing. ¡°The first layer of the seal is the most annoying because it can¡¯t be patched up. It has to be completely destroyed before we can rebuild it from scratch. Otherwise, it¡¯d be too weak and would just break again. Ever heard of balance? Ritual magic?¡±

    Silence lingered for a few seconds before the man on the branch let out a short, mocking laugh.

    ¡°Blah, blah, blah¡­¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°You guys and your nonsense¡ªbalance, rituals, yin-yang, blah, blah, blah¡­¡±

    Throwing his head back, he let out an exasperated sigh, eyes drifting to the moons above.

    ¡°They did warn me not to join the Forest Guard.¡± He sighed, irritation lacing his voice.

    The Forest Guard¡ªalso known as the Sentinels of Dracknum or the Green Squadron¡ªwere the force responsible for overseeing the Black Forest and maintaining its delicate balance. Their duties included upkeeping the seals that protected the forest, regulating the flora and fauna to prevent dangerous creatures from disrupting the ecosystem, and gathering essential resources.

    Beyond that, they ensured the safety of nearby villages, managing the fragile relationship between humans and the forest¡¯s denizens. No one entered the Black Forest without their approval¡ªmercenaries, adventurers, or villagers alike all had to go through them first.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Yet among their many responsibilities, one stood above the rest: supervising and coordinating the Hunter¡¯s Judgement.

    ¡°Nothing remotely interesting has happened in this forest for years. And when something finally does, it¡¯s just a bunch of idiots who don¡¯t even know what they¡¯re doing¡­¡±

    ¡°If the captain heard you now¡­¡± the other remarked with a half-smile.

    ¡°What? She¡¯d give me a lecture?¡± The man on the branch scoffed. ¡°If they¡¯re gonna stir up trouble, they should at least make it worth our time.¡±

    A brief silence fell between them, broken only by the distant whisper of leaves rustling in the wind.

    The man at the base of the tree let out a resigned sigh. ¡°Yeah¡­ can¡¯t argue with that.¡±

    Then, a piercing, distorted sound tore through the air¡ªa shriek, raw and unnatural, as if it belonged to something that shouldn¡¯t exist.

    ¡°SKREEEECH!¡±

    The noise came from the cluster of dead trees ahead. The two Rangers froze for an instant, the air around them thick with anticipation.

    The darkness ahead stirred, and an unsettling stench seeped into the air.

    A slow, feral grin spread across the face of the man on the branch, his eyes gleaming with untamed excitement.

    ¡°Finally.¡±

    <hr>

    Luminus walked alongside Thomas, the conversation with Thanatos still echoing in his mind.

    ¡°Patriarch...¡± he began hesitantly. ¡°Thanatos... what did he mean when he said ¡®time is running out¡¯?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not something you need to know.¡± The reply was sharp and immediate. After a brief silence, Thomas added, ¡°Not for now.¡±

    The curt answer left a bitter taste in Luminus¡¯s mouth. He swallowed any urge to protest, his golden eyes fixed on the darkness ahead.

    Thomas kept walking, and Luminus followed. Yet something inside him burned¡ªnot merely curiosity, but a deep, unsettling instinct warning him that Thanatos¡¯s words were far from empty.

    After a few silent steps, Thomas spoke again without turning around.

    ¡°Luminus... Loki says many things. He does many things. Never take what he says too seriously...¡±

    Then the Patriarch stopped and, this time, turned completely to face him. His piercing eyes seemed to look straight into Luminus¡¯s soul.

    ¡°...But also, never take him lightly.¡±

    The tone was grave¡ªthere was no room for doubt or misinterpretation. A shiver ran down Luminus¡¯s spine.

    At that very moment, a thunderous explosion roared from the west, violent and deafening.

    BOOM!

    Before Luminus could even process the sound, a second blast echoed from the south, shaking the very ground beneath his feet.

    BOOM!

    The bioluminescent fungi trembled, casting distorted shadows over the ancient trunks. The air grew thick and charged with electricity, as if something primordial was awakening.

    Luminus didn¡¯t hesitate. Instinctively, his hands darted to the hilt of his sword, his body tensing, ready to react to any threat. His breathing steadied, controlled¡ªhis training taking over his instincts.

    Thomas, however, remained unmoved. He showed no sign of urgency or worry. His eyes merely narrowed as he gazed toward the horizon, as if he already knew exactly what was coming.

    ¡°These creatures never seem to tire...¡± Thomas murmured, releasing a frustrated sigh.

    In that moment, reality itself split apart. A tear sliced through the air ahead¡ªlike a mirror shattering in silence¡ªunveiling a pulsating abyss of chaotic energy. From it emerged twisted beasts, their forms both animalistic and contorted. Their eyes blazed like glowing embers, and their fangs dripped with a thick, sinister saliva.

    Luminus fixed his gaze on the gaping rift, then quickly turned as he noticed another tear forming right behind him, ripping at the very fabric of reality. From this second breach, even more beasts surged forth, expelled by a silent fury that made the earth itself tremble.

    ¡°It has begun... the seal has been broken,¡± Luminus declared, his voice tense as he stared at the opening unfurling before him.

 S-Rank Contract

    The pressure exerted by the warrior of Dracknum was overwhelming¡ªan invisible weight pressing down on me, making each breath a struggle and turning every movement into a herculean effort. I could barely move, the air around me feeling as dense as lead. And yet, the fear of death, the searing pain in my chest, and the desperate cries of the youngling were the only things keeping me conscious, if only by a fragile thread.

    For some inexplicable reason, the Crothyna remained completely still. Her figure, spectral in the dim light, seemed frozen in time, suspended in a state of inertia that defied logic. Her yellow eyes weren¡¯t fixed on us but rather on something distant¡ªmost likely the battle between the Dracknum warrior and the mercenaries.

    Beside me, Nikolas and Oswin were also struggling against the suffocating weight of terror. Their faces, illuminated only by fleeting flashes of light filtering through the thick canopy, mirrored my own silent dread. With an almost inhuman effort, I turned my gaze toward Nikolas.

    ¡°Huh?¡± His expression struck me as odd. ¡°Hey¡­ why are you¡­ smiling?¡± I asked, my voice breaking between disbelief and despair, barely managing to form the words.

    Nikolas tilted his head slightly, his breath unsteady, yet his eyes seemed to search for an answer.

    ¡°Huh? I should be asking you the same thing,¡± he replied, speaking far more clearly than I could manage.

    For a moment, I froze, confusion swallowing me whole.

    ¡®Am I¡­ smiling too?¡¯

    I hadn¡¯t even realized it amidst the chaos, but there it was¡ªan unexpected smile stretched across my lips. With difficulty, I raised my scorched, trembling hand to my face, feeling my parted lips and slackened jaw, my own disbelief evident in my touch.

    The silence was shattered by Oswin¡¯s panicked rambling.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna die, we¡¯re gonna die, we¡¯re gonna die!¡± His voice trembled, barely intelligible, as he fought to stay on his feet, resisting the crushing force. It was understandable¡ªhe was only ten or eleven, trapped in a forest teetering on the edge of doom.

    ¡®Why?¡¯ My mind spun with questions as my hands shook, grasping for some semblance of reason. I looked at Nikolas, and though his expression reflected the same bewilderment, there was something else in his eyes¡ªan unwavering resolve, a fire that refused to be snuffed out.

    Oswin¡¯s frantic murmurs continued, a relentless, echoing mantra:

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna die, die, die¡­¡±

    Then, with a voice laden with unexpected urgency, Nikolas intervened:

    ¡°Alexander, look¡­ She must be affected by this pressure too. Maybe we still have a chance.¡±

    I tried to reason with him. ¡°But even if we manage to move out of this pressure, it¡¯ll just follow us.¡±

    Nikolas nodded, his lips curling into a defiant smile despite his trembling hands and the cold sweat on his face. ¡°Exactly.¡±

    ¡°Huh?!¡± I blurted out, stunned by the audacity of his response.

    ¡°We¡¯re not just going to escape the pressure¡ªwe¡¯re going straight to the source of it.¡± His grin widened as he spoke.

    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± I shot back, trying to mask the mix of fear and disbelief in my voice. ¡°And what happened to not interfering?¡±

    ¡°That was before this damn pressure escalated and before the Crothyna decided to become part of the scenery, wasn¡¯t it?¡± he retorted, his grin growing with every word. ¡°Besides, who said we¡¯d be interfering?¡±

    With all the strength he could muster, Nikolas leaned in and began whispering.

    ¡°This is the plan¡­¡±

    After hearing everything, I lowered my head slightly¡ªa gesture that was equal parts resignation and irony, reflecting on the sheer madness of Nikolas¡¯ idea.

    With a sigh, I began to murmur, ¡°And to think I once had the nerve to call me crazy¡­¡± Then I lifted my gaze, clenched my scorched fist, and felt a smile forming¡ªtrembling, yes, but filled with something that was anything but fear or despair.

    ¡°When there¡¯s someone even crazier than me!¡± I declared, my tone hovering between sarcasm and camaraderie.

    Nikolas chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with that fire known only to the audacious.

    ¡°In this world? No¡­ In Dracknum, everyone¡¯s crazy. The ones who aren¡¯t? They just haven¡¯t realized it yet.¡±

    <hr>

    As expected, Warwick remained almost entirely unfazed by the crushing pressure exerted by the Dracknum warrior, who, in turn, continued his relentless assault¡ªeach strike seeming less like a mere attack and more like a declaration of war against reality itself.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    As the battle raged, right in front of the rift that tore through space, Darius watched with calculating eyes. His hand, resting firmly on the shoulder of the disheveled-haired, golden-eyed boy, pulsed with an intense, crimson energy. That energy¡ªvivid, almost alive¡ªflowed steadily, like molten lava, being injected into the boy. It spread, reaching the scroll clutched in the youth¡¯s trembling hands. Unlike the previous one, this scroll bore red inscriptions, and an immense pentagram, etched with precision, vibrated in sync with each new wave of energy coursing through it.

    ¡®It hurts so much¡­¡¯ the boy agonized in his mind, beads of sweat betraying the torment he endured with each infusion of that vital force. The pain was excruciating, but he couldn¡¯t falter. That energy¡ªnone other than Darius¡¯ own mana¡ªwas being transferred with an almost ritualistic precision.

    Mana, the primordial source of magic, was the foundation of existence itself. From the smallest grains of sand to the most distant celestial bodies, everything carried traces of this energy, in varying forms and intensities. Though invisible to the naked eye, it permeated every corner of reality, sustaining the world and making the extraordinary possible.

    More than just fuel for spells, mana was the hidden essence that shaped nature, strengthened bodies, and awakened supernatural abilities. Just as coal feeds a fire, mana burned and transformed, enabling anything from simple enchantments to feats capable of bending the very laws of the universe.

    However, this energy was not inherently benevolent. It manifested in many forms, capable of being either a force of creation or a harbinger of destruction. In Darius¡¯ case, the mana he wielded was impure¡ªa stark contrast to the natural, untainted mana that coursed through most living beings. His, by nature, was corrupted, harmful. As a vampire, Darius bore this curse, turning his very essence into a double-edged sword¡ªimmensely powerful, yet poisonous to those whose mana was inherently pure.

    ¡°Damn this fragile human body,¡± Darius muttered under his breath, frustration lacing his voice. From the very start, this mission had felt doomed to failure, and with every passing moment of misfortune, his irritation only deepened.

    <hr>

    Darius and Warwick, both members of a notorious mercenary organization, were no strangers to working with all kinds of contractors¡ªranging from wide-eyed children to the most ruthless criminals in the city. In this organization, money was the only law: as long as the price was paid, any task would be carried out without question. Though neither of them stood at the pinnacle of the hierarchy, Darius¡ªthe sharp-tongued half-blood¡ªand Warwick¡ªthe proud-hearted barbarian¡ªwere considered high-class warriors, always above the average.

    That day, however, they found themselves drowning in boredom, suffocated by the monotony of their recent missions. No contract seemed worth the effort, and the rush of adrenaline had long since faded. Then, unexpectedly, a new contract arrived¡ªan enigmatic request from an anonymous employer. While secretive deals were nothing new in their line of work, something about this particular approach was disturbingly unusual. The mysterious contractor arrived accompanied by an impeccably dressed butler, who, with a voice as smooth as it was precise, laid out the mission¡¯s terms.

    The initial meeting unfolded in a tense silence, filled with an air of formality and unease, interrupted only by the faint clinking of the butler¡¯s accessories and the scrutinizing gazes of the mercenaries. By the end of the discussion, as if enacting some macabre ritual, the contractor¡ªwhose identity remained concealed¡ªslit the butler¡¯s throat without hesitation. Darius would never forget the cold, deliberate words spoken the very moment the lifeless body hit the ground:

    "Perfect. Now, no loose ends remain."

    Though they had dealt with their fair share of eccentric clients, Darius and Warwick knew something was deeply wrong with this mission. To make matters worse, it had been classified as an S-rank job¡ªsomething that, under normal circumstances, would never be entrusted to them. However, the client had explicitly stated that only they were to undertake it. And after three long months without a contract of real significance, this opportunity felt like an oasis in a desert of meaningless missions. Accepting was their only option¡ªrefusal would bring severe consequences from their own organization.

    The mission¡¯s objective seemed, at first glance, straightforward:

    "Infiltrate the Black Forest of Dracknum during the hunter¡¯s trial, destroy all rapid access points to prevent reinforcements, create a diversion, and finally, break the protective seals and leave the area."

    An impossible task¡ªalmost suicidal. No one in their right mind would dare provoke the Archduchy of Dracknum. They were a nation of hunters, relentless and unforgiving. But the contractor¡ªthrough the butler¡¯s measured, almost sinister tone¡ªmade one thing explicitly clear:

    "Fear not. I require only the first layer to be broken."

    Those words echoed in Darius and Warwick¡¯s minds, stirring an unsettling mix of relief and dread. On one hand, knowing they didn¡¯t need to shatter the seal entirely offered a small measure of reassurance¡ªlike a breath of air amidst the looming storm. On the other, the mission still meant crossing a line¡ªoffending the mighty Dracknum family. Even for mercenaries accustomed to operating beyond the bounds of law, this job required more than just skill; it demanded caution, strategy, and a great deal of nerve.

    They had already completed the first two phases of the contract with remarkable precision. Between skirmishes and obstacles, the only real complication had been the death of a Dracknum guard¡ªa minor incident in the grand scheme of things. Yet, as they neared the final stage, an unexpected problem arose. A troublesome individual had appeared, throwing their plans into disarray and fueling Darius¡¯ growing frustration.

    The situation was spiraling out of control. And now, he had no choice but to find a way out¡ªimmediately.

    Darius knew that he and Warwick could escape on their own¡ªbut there was one unacceptable variable: the fragile boy assigned as their "assistant" by the enigmatic client. His mind was as delicate as his body, and losing him wouldn¡¯t just jeopardize the mission; it could also stain their reputation within the organization. That responsibility kept them from making any reckless moves.

    With his eyes burning with determination and his mind racing through strategies, Darius made a bold decision¡ªit was time for Plan B.

    If retreating wasn¡¯t an option, then forcing the rupture wider would be. Even if only 1% of the second layer fractured, it would be enough.

    While Warwick continued to hold off the Dracknum warrior, Darius pressed on with his effort to break free.

    ¡°Damn it, this payment better be worth all this trouble,¡± he muttered, his voice carrying both irritation and cautious hope. Unlike standard missions, S-rank contracts never came with a set price. The reward would only be revealed after the mission¡¯s successful completion¡ªif they made it out alive.

 Unexpected Interference

    The warrior of Dracknum wielded his massive claymore, its blade shrouded in a shimmering blue aura that flickered with every strike, as he traded relentless blows with Warwick. Each swing¡ªwhether a sweeping arc or a vertical slash¡ªflowed with an almost ethereal grace, his meticulously precise movements contrasting with the restrained fury in his gaze. Despite the warrior¡¯s relentless assault, Warwick, his fists darkened to a metallic hue and enveloped in a burning orange aura, blocked and countered with surgical precision.

    Every time the warrior of Dracknum attempted to push forward toward Darius and the disheveled-haired boy with golden eyes, Warwick was there, an unyielding barrier preventing any unwanted approach. The sharp clang of steel meeting steel and the reverberation of their clashes filled the air.

    ¡®Damn it, this is taking forever,¡¯ the warrior muttered in his mind, though his poised stance and refined technique betrayed none of the impatience gnawing at him. His eyes gleamed with determination¡ªtinged with a flicker of frustration.

    Glancing subtly around, he murmured internally, ¡®The opening has been there for a while. Why hasn¡¯t anything come through?¡¯

    Seizing a fleeting gap in Warwick¡¯s defenses, the warrior crouched low, attempting to slip past unnoticed. Yet before he could capitalize on the opportunity, Warwick spun with unnerving speed and precision. In a single, forceful motion, he grabbed the warrior by the collar, channeling the raw power of his aura-infused arms. With a swift pull and a powerful kick, he sent the warrior hurtling in the opposite direction of his intended path.

    The Dracknum warrior recovered swiftly, his innate agility and dignified composure allowing him to sidestep Darius¡¯s incoming strike with ease. But even as their fierce exchanges continued, a strange thought crept into Warwick¡¯s mind¡ªhalf surprise, half irony:

    ¡®This¡­ feels odd. Why does it feel like I¡¯m just play-fighting, like a child?¡¯

    As the battle raged on, each movement, every glance, and every shift in posture only deepened Warwick¡¯s unease. It was natural for fights to have fluctuating tempos¡ªsome brief, others drawn out¡ªbut this one felt... offbeat. It had been thirty minutes since the first strike had cut his arm, and apart from the wound that pierced his shoulder, neither of them had landed a decisive blow.

    A growing sense of suspicion made Warwick instinctively take a cautious step back. Strangely, the Dracknum warrior no longer attacked with his usual ferocity. Instead, he held a cryptic stance, his intentions unreadable. Warwick narrowed his eyes, remaining on high alert, watching for the slightest opening.

    Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from the surroundings, shattering the tense rhythm of the battle. Warwick''s perception shifted in an instant, and Darius snapped to attention. Without hesitation, Warwick, his instincts flaring in alarm, cast a sharp glance at the Dracknum warrior and swiftly raised his guard.

    The warrior, sporting a smug grin, wasted no time. With a swift, vertical slash of his massive claymore¡ªits blue aura gleaming with each motion¡ªhe followed up with a horizontal strike. The two attacks merged, forming a radiant cross of crackling blue energy.

    From the direction of the scream, two boys came sprinting toward Darius and the tousle-haired boy with golden eyes. The pressure emanating from the warrior still lingered in the air, and their ragged breathing made them appear as easy prey. Yet, Darius, displaying an almost unnerving calm, barely reacted beyond a flicker of surprise¡ªafter all, what threat could a bunch of kids possibly pose?

    Meanwhile, standing his ground, Warwick felt a cold shiver race down his spine. The glowing cross-shaped attack seemed to pass through him like a phantom, leaving an icy trail in its wake.

    "Shit..." he muttered, attempting to recover and intercept the attack aimed at his ally and the fragile boy near the opening. But the Dracknum warrior refused to let him.

    "Returning the favor."

    In a mirrored act of retaliation, the warrior grabbed Warwick by the collar¡ªjust as Warwick had done to him moments before¡ªand launched him in the opposite direction with a powerful kick. Not giving him a chance to regain his footing, the warrior pressed on with deadly precision.

    The glowing blue cross surged forward, streaking toward the opening, while the two boys rushed toward the same spot.

    ¡ª "Reinforce!" ¡ª one of the children bellowed, his voice brimming with urgency.

    ¡ª "Fortify!" ¡ª He shouted again, gripping a makeshift bow, his eyes alight with fierce determination.

    In a flash, the second child grabbed the first by the arms and began spinning him, as if playing with a ragdoll.

    ¡ª "Breeze!" ¡ª he cried, releasing his companion and propelling him forward with a sudden burst of wind.

    With a powerful gust, the boy shot forward, hurtling toward the opening with remarkable speed.

    Both attacks converged upon Darius and the tousle-haired boy with golden eyes¡ªone coming straight at them in the form of a radiant, cross-shaped burst of energy, the other from the side, carried by the boy sprinting at full speed, wielding a visibly crude dagger.

    Darius, fully aware of his priorities, didn¡¯t need even a moment to decide on his course of action. Focused on channeling his mana into the scroll¡ªusing the young boy as a conduit¡ªhe knew that moving now could trigger catastrophic consequences. His vulnerability was clear, making him an easy target¡ªor so it seemed.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    As the two attacks closed in, Darius reacted with an almost instinctive precision. In one swift, deliberate motion, he sank his elongated, razor-sharp canines into his own lips. A thin stream of blood welled up, yet rather than behaving as expected, it defied gravity, rising into the air and coalescing before him into a pulsating crimson barrier. For a fleeting moment, his face grew even paler¡ªbut given his already ghostly complexion, the change was barely noticeable.

    Thud!

    The glowing cross slammed into the blood barrier with force, yet its momentum didn¡¯t wane. The blue energy continued to press forward, pushing against the crimson defense, which stubbornly held its ground, fulfilling its role as a shield.

    Even as he maintained the barrier, Darius kept his focus divided. He tracked every shift in the ongoing battle between Warwick and the Dracknum warrior, stole quick glances toward the forming opening beside him, and remained concentrated on injecting mana into the young boy¡¯s body¡ªall while meticulously managing the integrity of his blood defense.

    Then, as the dagger-wielding boy closed in, Darius turned his attention to him, though only partially¡ªhis mind was already juggling too many simultaneous tasks. Quickly assessing the situation, he considered forming a secondary, smaller blood barrier to halt the boy¡¯s advance likely without even needing to move.

    Acting on this thought, Darius reallocated a portion of the blood from his primary shield¡ªtaking advantage of the fact that the cross-shaped attack was gradually losing strength¡ªand redirected it toward the charging boy.

    However, the young attacker reacted with unexpected speed. His hand darkened and hardened in an instant, as if a layer of stone had formed over his skin, jagged protrusions emerging across its surface. The transformation extended to the dagger, which seemed to shift in both size and power.

    ¡ª "Sharpen!" ¡ª the boy shouted with fierce determination.

    A keen edge materialized along the dagger¡¯s blade. Then, before the newly formed blood barrier could fully take shape, the boy hurled the enhanced dagger with deadly precision.

    The dagger flew through a gap that had formed in the center of the blood barrier. As it did, the boy crashed violently against the barrier, the impact so severe that a sharp, agonized scream escaped his lips:

    "AHH!"

    Still carried by its momentum, the dagger continued its trajectory toward Darius. For a brief moment, Darius relaxed his posture, certain that such a flimsy blade posed no real threat. However, his confidence was soon shattered¡ªthe dagger began to lose speed midair, subtly shifting course before finally striking its true target.

    Swoosh!

    The blade pierced a yellowed parchment covered in crimson inscriptions before clattering to the ground several meters behind Darius.

    "Ow! Ow, OW!" the tousle-haired boy cried out, abruptly releasing the scroll with a frantic, uncontrolled motion. His trembling hands shot to his neck as droplets of blood seeped between his fingers, streaking his face with lines of pain, shock, and a silent, all-consuming dread.

    "Damn it!" Darius cursed, frustration seeping into his voice as his eyes narrowed at the parchment.

    In that instant, the document¡ªnow torn by the dagger¡ªerupted in bursts of crimson lightning. At the same time, the already unstable opening began to shift erratically, distorting as if violently reacting to the disruption.

    ¡°HWWAAAAAAAH!¡±

    A deafening, primal roar burst forth from the opening¡ªnot merely a scream, but a monstrous bellow that seemed to merge with the explosive reaction of the scroll. A violent shockwave of energy tore through the battlefield, sweeping everything in its path.

    The blood barrier Darius had raised was instantly obliterated, its structure dissolving into a rain of crimson droplets and trembling particles. The tousle-haired boy, already writhing on the ground, now clutched his head in sheer agony, as though a thousand needles were piercing his skull. His cries escalated into tortured wails:

    "AHH! AHH! AHH!"

    Meanwhile, in the heart of the battlefield, Warwick and the Dracknum warrior had momentarily halted their exchange. Both turned toward the opening in unison. For the briefest moment, the Dracknum warrior¡¯s expression shifted¡ªhis face tensed, and a throbbing vein surfaced on his forehead, betraying the fact that things had spiraled completely out of control.

    Warwick, ever perceptive and seasoned in battle, immediately grasped the growing peril of the situation. Without hesitation, he launched himself toward Darius, urgency driving his every step.

    On the other side of the battlefield, the two boys who had interfered in the fight were now suffering the full force of the devastation. The one who had thrown the dagger lay sprawled upside down, his fists clenched as he struggled against the searing pain¡ªnot from his collision with the barrier, but from the sheer shockwave of energy unleashed by both the scroll and the opening.

    The other boy,dark skinned and with his hand scorched,was on his knees. His arms hung limply at his sides, his mouth slightly open in a silent expression of disbelief. His eyes¡ªnow completely void of pupils¡ªmade it clear that his consciousness had already slipped away.

    Darius and Warwick, on the other hand, had not been struck with the same devastating force. Though they felt the impact of the explosion and the sheer terror of that inhuman roar, and though the pulse of energy briefly threw them off balance, neither was rendered unable to move.

    Without hesitation, Warwick grabbed the tousle-haired boy, who was still writhing on the ground, lifting him with ease and securing him under one arm as he closed the distance to Darius. Meanwhile, Darius swiftly focused his mana, his hands moving with almost mechanical precision as he worked to close the wound on the boy¡¯s neck, his touch cold and calculated.

    "Useless brat," Warwick muttered, his voice laced with irritation and impatience as he scanned the chaos unfolding around them. Then, turning to Darius, he spoke in a rough, tense voice: "What now?"

    Darius, his expression dark and his blood-red eyes flashing with frustration, didn¡¯t hesitate:

    "We get the hell out of here."

    Before they could make their move, Warwick gestured behind them.

    "And what about that lunatic?" he asked, motioning toward the motionless figure standing in the distance¡ªlong black hair, golden eyes, a massive claymore in hand, completely still as he stared them down.

    Darius let out a slow, heavy sigh. He hated to admit it, but the reality of their situation was inescapable.

    "As much as I despise saying this¡­ we can¡¯t take him on. Not like this. There are too many variables at play."

    His gaze flickered toward the opening, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and resignation.

    "Whatever comes out of that thing¡ªlet it deal with him."

 Until Next Time

    Warwick and Darius still stood before the unstable rift. The wind howled, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood and the lingering heat of battle. The forest, silent and expectant, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the conclusion of their confrontation.

    Warwick was the one to break the silence, his voice deep but unhurried. ¡°And those kids? You¡¯re just going to leave them?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t asking out of cruelty or a thirst for blood. It was simply a matter of loose ends. They had seen their faces¡ªWarwick didn¡¯t like leaving things unfinished.

    Darius scoffed, irritation flashing in his crimson gaze as he turned toward his companion.

    ¡°No! We¡¯ve done enough damage already. Just by completing this mission, and accidentally taking out a guard, we¡¯ve given them plenty of reason to hunt us down. Imagine if we spilled the blood of their direct descendants¡­ while they were still children.¡±

    There was a weight to Darius¡¯ voice, something grim, something haunted. He knew firsthand the wrath of the Dracknum. It wasn¡¯t just a rumor, not some vague warning¡ªit was something he had lived through.

    The memories crashed over him like a storm.

    The lord of his city¡­ an ambitious, ruthless man, had once tried to claim a Dracknum descendant as his bride. She refused. He persisted, schemed, bribed the right people, eliminated her suitors. Trapped, with no escape, she took her own life.

    When the Dracknum family received the news¡­ Well, there was no hesitation. The village burned. The innocent were spared, but the guilty paid for their crimes in the worst manner. And the lord himself? He and his grand fortress vanished overnight. Some said he burned alive in his own mansion. Others claimed he had been tortured to death. There were even whispers that he was still out there somewhere, cursed to an eternity of suffering and regeneration.

    Darius shivered, his skin prickling as the echoes of screams and fire-painted skies clawed their way back into his mind. Too many people he had once known had been dragged down with that disaster.

    He shook his head, forcing the ghosts of the past away.

    ¡°I¡¯m done wasting time here. Let¡¯s go.¡± His voice cut through the night like a blade.

    And Then¡­

    His body began to dissolve into a swarm of black bats, which shot toward the sky like living shadows.

    Warwick let out a low grunt, adjusting the weight of the unconscious boy in his arms. ¡°I don¡¯t want to stick around to test their wrath.¡±

    Digging his feet into the earth, he felt the ground give way under his weight. Then, with a devastating push, he launched himself skyward, the wind tearing at his skin as he ascended toward Darius.

    Midair, Darius reassumed his human form, his bat-like wings slicing through the night sky. From within his cloak, he retrieved an aged parchment and, without hesitation, tore it in half. The space before him rippled violently as a swirling black vortex began to form.

    Victory was within reach.

    Until a cold, lethal voice shattered the night.

    ¡°Not on my watch.¡±

    The Dracknum warrior.

    He had finally broken free from paralysis and wasted no time channeling his power. His claymore pulsed with energy, its bluish hue intensifying. With impeccable precision, he hurled it straight into Warwick¡¯s path.

    Darius snarled. ¡°This guy just doesn¡¯t quit, does he?!¡±

    Wasting no time, he raised a hand, summoning a barrier of blood between Warwick and the oncoming blade. The sword crashed into the barrier with explosive force, the air vibrating from the impact.

    But then¡­ something unexpected happened.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    One of the embedded gems on the claymore glowed an intense crimson. The sword¡¯s blue aura began to shift¡ªfrom blue to silver.

    Darius¡¯ eyes widened. ¡°Shit.¡±

    The blade crossed through the barrier as if it had never existed, continuing its ruthless trajectory toward Warwick.

    But Warwick had already anticipated this.

    A burst of orange light erupted around him as his aura expanded, his arms darkening into a solid, metallic sheen. He wasn¡¯t in the best position to dodge, but he was ready.

    With his free hand, he raised his arm to block the strike.

    The blade passed right through.

    Warwick blinked, confused, when he realized he hadn''t been struck.

    But before he could react, a shadow loomed before him.

    The Dracknum warrior. Moving with inhuman speed, he was already wielding his claymore once more. His eyes burned with unshakable determination.

    Warwick tried to move, but the strike was already coming.

    A precise thrust. A flawless vertical cut.

    BANG!

    At the last second, Warwick managed to raise his arm over his chest to absorb the impact. The shock was brutal. The force of the blow sent him hurtling toward the ground like a meteor, the air howling around him as he plummeted.

    Still hovering above, Darius gritted his teeth, frustration surging in his chest. ¡°Damn it! This guy is taking things too far¡­¡±

    The forest below trembled, as if the very earth could sense the devastation about to come. The wind roared past Warwick, his clothes and hair whipping violently as he plunged toward the ground. Above him, the vortex spun wildly, unstable, threatening to collapse at any moment. Time was running out.

    But the Dracknum warrior had no intention of simply watching.

    With a firm motion, he hurled his claymore toward the ground. The blade sliced through the air like a silver lightning bolt, spinning before embedding itself into the earth with a dry, thunderous impact. The force sent cracks rippling across the terrain, a cloud of dust surging up from the blow.

    And in the blink of an eye¡ªbefore Warwick could even hit the ground¡ªthe warrior was already there, materializing beside his own sword. His stance was relaxed, but his intent was deadly clear.

    From above, Darius didn¡¯t hesitate. He raised both hands, and from his fingertips, thin crimson lances formed¡ªrazor-sharp and swift, launched straight at the Dracknum warrior. They streaked through the air like furious thorns, tearing toward their target.

    Warwick didn¡¯t even spare them a glance¡ªhe knew that, despite their menacing appearance, he could withstand them without serious harm.

    The Dracknum warrior, however, merely smirked, his keen eyes following Warwick¡¯s descent.

    ¡°Not even worried about your companion?¡± he murmured, almost mocking.

    But the smirk vanished the moment he moved.

    At the last possible moment before impact, the Dracknum warrior moved.

    Using Warwick¡¯s own descent speed against him, he shot forward like an arrow¡ªprecise and ruthless.

    With a brutal kick, he struck the boy in Warwick¡¯s arms, wrenching him away with sheer force. The impact was violent, sending the child flying like a ragdoll.

    ¡°Shit.¡± Warwick¡¯s eyes widened as he roared, reaching out in desperation to grab him back.

    But the Dracknum warrior was faster.

    In a single, fluid motion, he seized Warwick by the arm midair, pivoted on his own axis, and used the momentum to hurl him upward¡ªstraight toward Darius¡ªwithout ever letting him touch the ground.

    Darius watched it all unfold, his expression twisting into raw fury. ¡°That bastard¡­!¡±

    Warwick, still reeling from the sudden shift, had no time to recover.

    Darius¡¯ blood lances, now without a target, continued on their original path. Warwick barely had a second to cross his arms defensively before they struck.

    The projectiles ricocheted off his hardened arms as he hurtled uncontrollably toward Darius.

    Below, the Dracknum warrior now stood beside the disheveled-haired boy. He shot them a mocking grin¡ªthen waved.

    ¡°Bye-bye.¡±

    Darius¡¯ glare darkened with pure murder. ¡°You bastard¡­!¡± he spat, rage boiling at how effortlessly the warrior had unraveled their entire strategy in mere seconds.

    But there was no time to dwell on it.

    ¡°MOVE!¡± Warwick¡¯s roar rang out as he careened toward Darius.

    Darius heard the warning¡ªbut by the time he turned, it was already too late.

    ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    Warwick crashed into Darius, the sheer force of the impact propelling them both straight into the black vortex.

    For a fleeting moment, everything froze¡ªsilence reigned, the world suspended in the void between time and space.

    Then, with a deafening crack, the vortex collapsed in on itself, vanishing as if it had never existed.

    The Dracknum warrior remained where he stood, watching the scene unfold with an unshaken expression. The wind whispered through the trees, as if the world itself was exhaling after the storm.

    His gaze shifted¡ªfrom the disheveled-haired boy to the spot where the portal had vanished.

    The smirk that had once been taunting was now merely thoughtful.

    "Until next time."

 Forced Entry

    At the edge of the Central Area, a heavy silence hung over the battlefield. The air was thick with the stench of iron and burned flesh, mingling with the cold night breeze. The grotesque remains of demonic beasts lay scattered, forming twisted mountains of corpses. Atop one of them, a lone figure moved.

    Luminus.

    He pulled his sword from a pile of fallen monsters, the metallic ring of steel cutting through the stillness. The blade slid free from dead flesh, dripping with a dark, viscous liquid that shimmered under the light of the twin moons overhead.

    Those moons, once distinct celestial bodies, had finally merged into a single luminous sphere. A rare omen. A sign of transition.

    The two rifts in reality¡ªonce spewing forth abominations¡ªwere now closing. The tear between worlds was slowly mending, and the horrors that had emerged from that abyss had been vanquished.

    Luminus panted.

    ¡°Huff¡­ Huff¡­¡±

    His breath came ragged, muscles burning from exhaustion. His chest rose and fell heavily, sweat trickling down his forehead, mixing with the blood staining his clothes.

    A low chuckle echoed behind him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me a mere thousand demonic beasts were enough to wear you out, Luminus.¡± The voice carried a blend of amusement and disappointment.

    Luminus didn¡¯t need to turn around to recognize the approaching figure.

    Thomas¡ªhis father. The patriarch of Dracknum.

    His jaw clenched as he shut his eyes for a brief moment before responding, still struggling to steady his breath.

    ¡°Patriarch, you forced me to face every last beast using nothing but swordsmanship. No magic, no aura, no enhancements¡ªonly my raw strength and endurance. And as if that wasn¡¯t enough¡­¡± He raised his sword, revealing his hands tightly bound to the hilt. ¡°¡­you also made sure I couldn¡¯t let go of the blade.¡±

    His sword was long and subtly curved, resembling a katana. Its edge gleamed with shades of blue, reflecting the moonlight, and its design was simple¡ªno extravagant embellishments or jewels. Yet, despite its modest appearance, it was an instrument of absolute destruction. Incredibly durable. Sharp enough to cleave through steel without dulling.

    Thomas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. ¡°Hmph. All I hear are excuses.¡±

    Luminus rolled his eyes. ¡°Excuses or facts?¡±

    ¡°When I was your age, I did this blindfolded. With one hand tied behind my back. And standing on one foot.¡± Thomas¡¯s voice carried a theatrical seriousness, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his playful tone.

    Luminus narrowed his gaze and stepped forward.

    ¡°Oh, right. Just like when you were my age, you had already won the hearts of thousands of maidens?¡±

    Silence.

    Then¡­ Thomas burst into laughter.

    A deep, carefree, almost nostalgic laugh.

    He stroked his chin, pretending to ponder, while a smug grin stretched across his lips.

    ¡°Not thousands. But a few hundred? Definitely.¡±

    Luminus scoffed.

    ¡°You really have no shame, do you?¡±

    Thomas spread his arms dramatically.

    ¡°Shame? For what?

    Every single one of them fell for me for good reasons!¡±

    Luminus sighed, shaking his head.

    ¡°Good reasons, huh¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course! One of them even ended up becoming your mother.¡± Thomas added.

    Luminus blinked, momentarily caught off guard, and fell silent.

    At that moment, a strong wind blew, carrying away the stench of death and dust. The fused moons cast their glow over the warriors, stretching their shadows across the ruined battlefield. The land had finally fallen quiet. No new threats emerged.

    ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± Luminus broke the silence.

    ¡°We¡¯re done here. The rest should be manageable for the forest guard.¡±

    <hr>

    The black vortex sealed itself with a silent roar, swallowing the last traces of the mercenaries who had fled beyond mortal reach. The night breeze carried a nearly tangible weight, dust hanging in the air¡ªa lingering echo of the chaos that had ravaged the battlefield just moments ago.

    It was a failure.

    The warrior of Dracknum knew that. His duty was to capture those responsible for the invasion, yet the two main culprits had escaped. True, he had managed to seize one of their accomplices, but the boy he now dragged by the hair¡ªgolden eyes shut in unconsciousness¡ªwas worth far less than those who had gotten away.

    Even so, he didn¡¯t seem troubled.

    The Dracknum warrior walked at an unhurried pace, his firm steps echoing against the parched earth. In his free hand, he gripped a massive claymore, its blade trailing along the ground, carving deep grooves in the dirt. He sighed, his gaze sweeping over the unstable fissure in reality as it slowly sealed itself before him.

    ¡°This thing is really starting to piss me off¡­¡± he muttered, furrowing his brow.

    Before he could take another step, a noise rose from the rift. A grotesque sound¡ªa warped echo from a world beyond human comprehension.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    And then, it emerged.

    A black, twisted beast, shifting like a living shadow. Its form resembled a panther, but unnaturally elongated, each muscle rippling as though it lacked bones. Six legs, each ending in blade-like claws. A head like an eagle¡¯s, crowned with lifeless, burning crimson eyes radiating pure hostility.

    The creature roared as it fully emerged, its talons tearing into the ground with a sound like shattering glass.

    Israel didn¡¯t even blink.

    ¡°Hence why they call them demon beasts¡­¡±

    The monster lunged at him with primal, instinctual ferocity.

    ¡°¡­But this one is just low-level.¡±

    Without breaking stride, he lifted the claymore in the same hand he had been dragging it with and, in a single precise vertical strike, cleaved the creature cleanly in two.

    The beast¡¯s body split apart, black blood spraying through the air before evaporating into wisps of purple smoke. Its severed head spun midair for a moment, jaws still locked in a silent snarl¡ªthen it, too, dissolved completely.

    The man exhaled. "Pathetic."

    The rift was closing now. It seemed that the creature had been the only one to use that passage¡ªperhaps due to the influence of the scrolls wielded by the boy he was still dragging by the hair. Regardless, his task here was complete.

    "I knew it."

    A youthful voice cut through the silence.

    Israel turned his head, meeting the sharp gaze of Nikolas Beaumont. The boy stood his ground, while a few meters behind him, Alexander remained unconscious¡ªno one had noticed, but a small wolf pup was gently licking his hand.

    Now that the overwhelming pressure had faded, Nikolas¡¯s voice came out steadier, though it still carried traces of exhaustion.

    "You¡¯re Israel Dracknum."

    Israel pivoted on his heel, curiosity flickering in his expression as he closed the distance between them.

    "Oh? Interesting¡­ You¡¯re still conscious."

    Nikolas held firm, eyes locked onto the man before him.

    "Of course I am." The confidence in his voice contrasted with the lingering fatigue in his body. Then, a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "You really don¡¯t remember me? I¡¯m Nikolas Beaumont. You were my tutor for a while."

    Israel paused, observing the boy. Then, as if the pieces of a forgotten puzzle finally clicked into place, recognition flashed in his eyes.

    "Ah¡­ So you¡¯re the Count Beaumont¡¯s son? It¡¯s been quite a while. I almost thought you had been declared dead."

    Nikolas folded his arms, scoffing.

    "Who would dare kill me? I disappear for three years, and suddenly I¡¯m dead?"

    A quiet chuckle escaped Israel. He fixed his gaze on Nikolas Beaumont, his expression composed, yet his voice carried an undeniable weight.

    "You know your own world well, Beaumont." His words were firm, yet unhurried.

    ¡°The maximum period someone can remain in the Judgment without a search team being sent is two years. You were gone for three¡ªwithout a single report confirming your survival.¡±

    Nikolas furrowed his brows.

    Israel continued. ¡°Your only saving grace was your father¡¯s stubborn refusal to accept your death. Otherwise, your funeral would have been held long ago.¡±

    Silence fell between them, sharp as a blade.

    Nikolas said nothing, still processing those words. He knew Israel was right, and that was precisely why he had no response. The shock was clear in his eyes, yet his lips couldn¡¯t form words.

    He drew a deep breath, trying to push through the invisible barrier of uncertainty hanging in the air. But before he could speak¡ª

    The portal, which had been slowly closing, suddenly stopped.

    Israel felt it immediately. Danger.

    His eyes narrowed. ¡°Damn it¡­¡±

    Then, something emerged.

    A massive, black tentacle burst from the rift, its surface pulsing like the flesh of some wretched, living thing. It writhed through the air, and, as if possessing a will of its own, began to split apart.

    From it, ten more tentacles took shape.

    Two shot toward Nikolas.

    Six lashed out at Israel.

    The last two slithered like serpents toward Alexander, still unconscious on the ground.

    Israel gritted his teeth.

    ¡®Shouldn¡¯t have let my guard down so soon¡­¡¯

    His body moved before he could finish the thought.

    With an agile leap, he propelled himself backward, narrowly evading the six tentacles that slammed into the ground where he had stood moments before. The sheer force of the impact split the earth beneath them.

    But Israel didn¡¯t hesitate.

    Still midair, Israel swung his claymore single-handedly, the blade gleaming with a deadly silver sheen. With a precise strike, he cleaved through all six tentacles in a single motion. The air was filled with a grotesque hiss¡ªa twisted blend of pain and fury echoing from the rift.

    But as his feet touched the ground, his eyes widened.

    The other tentacles¡­ had reached their targets.

    Nikolas was struggling fiercely, his body twisting as he fought to free himself from the vile appendage wrapped around his torso and leg. His breath came ragged, his skin pale, and the muscles in his arms trembled from the sheer effort of trying to break free.

    He kicked, he pulled, he used every ounce of his strength. But it was useless.

    The tentacle was dragging him back toward the rift.

    Alexander, on the other hand, was utterly helpless¡ªstill unconscious, his body already halfway into the pulsating void, offering no resistance.

    A cold dread shot through Israel.

    Reality hit him like a punch to the gut: ¡®If that portal closed¡­ they would never return.¡¯

    His teeth clenched, and a low, frustrated growl rumbled in his throat.

    ¡°This wasn¡¯t part of the plan¡­¡±

    Without hesitation, he released his grip on the unconscious boy¡¯s messy hair and bolted toward Nikolas. His legs exploded with force, the ground beneath him cracking from the sheer power of his movement.

    With one swift, decisive swing of his claymore, he severed the tentacle constraining Nikolas.

    The boy collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath, sweat dripping from his face as his chest heaved erratically.

    But Israel didn¡¯t stop. He was already moving toward Alexander.

    His gaze locked onto the boy, who was now halfway inside the rift, the shadows around him writhing like invisible claws, ready to swallow him whole.

    His instincts screamed at him: ¡®Not fast enough!¡¯

    Israel tightened his grip around the hilt of his claymore, channeling his aura.

    A brilliant blue glow erupted from the blade, roaring to life like a living flame, pulsating with raw power.

    He lunged forward, his sword spinning through the air.

    With a precise motion, he delivered a vertical slash, the blade leaving a luminous arc in its wake.

    The ethereal glow roared as it cut through the space between him and Alexander.

    In an instant, it struck the tentacle¡ªripping through it.

    A piercing screech echoed from the portal.

    The tentacle convulsed violently before crumbling into dust, its ashes sucked into the vortex.

    But¡­ it was too late.

    Alexander, motionless, vanished into the darkness.

    Israel watched, eyes wide in a mix of shock and frustration, as the boy was swallowed by the portal.

    The rift trembled, pulsing like a dying heart. Then, with a sudden snap, it sealed shut¡ªemitting a hollow thud, as if the very night had held its breath.

    And then¡­ silence.

    Israel remained still, claymore still raised, every muscle taut. His gaze stayed locked on the empty space where, just moments ago, Alexander had been.

    Behind him, Nikolas was still on the ground, supporting himself on one arm, his breath unsteady, his expression lost in confusion.

    The dust slowly settled.

    And Alexander¡­ was gone.

 Reflection in the Void

    "Where¡­ am I?"

    The words left my lips in a low, raspy murmur, as if my voice had traveled through an abyss before finally reaching my own ears. My consciousness was returning slowly, drifting between the fog of unconsciousness and reality¡ªbut which reality?

    The darkness was vast, overwhelming, as if space itself had been swallowed by nothingness. There was no ground beneath my feet, no air around me, no sound except for the distant echo of my own voice.

    It was strange. And yet¡­ familiar.

    My memories came in fragmented flashes. Just moments ago¡ªor had it been hours?¡ªI was helping Nikolas with his plan. The scroll¡­ it was damaged. Something happened to it. Something went wrong. A roar came from the opening. After that¡­

    Nothing.

    Only emptiness.

    I looked around, trying to keep my composure. I had seen too many strange things to be easily shaken¡ªespecially by something that felt eerily similar to past experiences.

    "Alone again, huh¡­?"

    I sighed, sitting down on the nothingness, feeling the weight of my own body against a floor that didn¡¯t exist.

    "I''m starting to get used to this¡­"

    But then, something shifted. A chill ran down my spine. Something was off.

    My eyes instinctively dropped to my hands, resting on my knees. And I froze.

    "Huh¡­?"

    My hands. My legs.

    They were there.

    A soft, spectral white light surrounded them, faint yet undeniable, as if they weren¡¯t entirely real. But they were. I could feel them.

    I took a deep breath, trying to steady the growing shock creeping up my spine.

    I ran a few tests.

    I blinked. My vision shifted.

    ¡°It works¡­¡±

    I pinched my own arm.

    ¡°¡­ OW!¡±

    I stood up and took a few hesitant steps. Then I ran, jumped. My body responded, moving exactly as it should.

    But¡­ something was off. This was familiar, but¡­ different.

    A nagging suspicion began to take shape in my mind.

    ¡°Could it be because¡­?¡±

    ¡°At least you¡¯re not that much of an idiot.¡±

    A voice cut through my thoughts.

    A child¡¯s voice.

    A familiar voice.

    My breath caught for a moment.

    ¡°Huh?!¡±

    My eyes widened as I turned, my heart pounding against my ribs.

    There, standing in the darkness, he was staring right at me.

    Or rather¡­ I was staring at myself.

    But not the version of me I expected to see.

    A child. Alexander¡¯s body. I knew it better than anyone. I had spent six months and a few weeks seeing that golden eyed face every single day.

    ¡°¡­No way,¡± I muttered, a shiver crawling down my spine.

    The child crossed his arms, tilting his head with a smirk.

    ¡°This is the first time we¡¯re meeting face-to-face, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    His voice was clear, casual. As if none of this was strange or absurd.

    ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s a pleasure to see you, but that would be a lie, so¡­¡±

    He spread his arms theatrically, a smug grin on his lips.

    ¡°Un-pleasure to see you, Dalton.¡±

    My mind froze.

    ¡®What?!¡¯

    Before I could react, a wave of dizziness crashed over me.

    The darkness around me trembled, as if pulled by some invisible force. My vision blurred. My limbs began to stretch, my body growing, shifting.

    My bones seemed to realign, my muscles expanding, my perspective shifting.

    It happened fast. Frighteningly fast.

    And then¡­ everything stopped.

    My breathing was heavy. My hands¡­ they were no longer small. I looked down, seeing my own arms, my own legs, my own height.

    A shiver of shock and relief ran down my spine.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m back in my body?¡±

    The child in front of me just smiled. A smug, infuriating smile.

    My eyes narrowed.

    ¡°Alexander.¡± I locked eyes with him. I knew exactly who he was. And he knew exactly who I was.

    His existence was never supposed to be separate from mine.

    ¡°If you¡¯re here, then that means¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­we¡¯re not actually the same being after all?¡± he interrupted, crossing his arms. ¡°Or that the soul fusion process failed completely?¡±

    The way he spoke, with that natural arrogance, made me narrow my eyes even more.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know either, okay?!¡± He huffed, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ¡°But there¡¯s one thing I do know, and I¡¯m absolutely certain of it¡­¡±

    He pointed a finger straight at me.

    ¡°You are a complete idiot!¡±

    I stood there, stunned.

    ¡®What?!¡¯ That caught me off guard. ¡°And what does a ten-year-old know about that?!¡±

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    Alexander let out a deep, exaggerated sigh, as if he were rapidly losing patience.

    ¡°How does a Dracknum fall for such a ridiculous illusion?¡±

    That comment stopped me in my tracks.

    Was he serious?

    ¡®So this really is an illusion¡­?¡¯ My mind started piecing together what he had just said.

    He sighed, shaking his head.

    ¡°And just to be clear, even by your world¡¯s standards, I¡¯m considered a genius, okay?¡±

    I scoffed, trying to ignore the growing irritation.

    ¡°Okay, okay, genius¡­ then tell me how to get out of here!¡±

    For the first time, Alexander hesitated. His gaze flickered away for the briefest moment.

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡±

    That was all I needed to notice it. I could feel it. The shame he was trying to hide.

    My lips curled into a smirk. ¡°Some genius you turned out to be.¡±

    He froze, his expression twisting in pure indignation.

    ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject, you idiot!¡± He stomped his foot, frustration dripping from his voice. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t even be in this situation if it weren¡¯t for you!¡±

    My smirk faded. My expression hardened.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    Alexander stared at me for a moment. The silence between us was thick, suffocating.

    And then¡­ he smiled again.

    But this time, there was something darker behind it.

    ¡°Do you really not know¡­ or are you just playing dumb?¡±

    His voice cut through the silence like a razor.

    A shiver crawled down my spine. What the hell did he mean by that?

    His golden eyes burned with something I couldn¡¯t quite place¡ªanger, frustration, or maybe¡­ disappointment?

    ¡°You have access to everything,¡± he continued, his voice teetering between fury and bitterness, ¡°and yet, you waste every single opportunity.¡±

    With every word, his expression darkened.

    ¡°Look at me!¡±

    He pointed at himself, fists clenched, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

    ¡°I¡¯m a compulsive reader! I have the knowledge of at least a thousand different things in my head! Look at me¡ªdark hair, golden eyes¡­ I AM A FUCKING DRACKNUM, DAMN IT!¡±

    His voice echoed through the emptiness around us, reverberating like thunder.

    ¡°And you inherited that when you took over my body!¡±

    I narrowed my eyes, feeling the anger bubbling inside me.

    ¡°And what the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?!¡±

    Alexander let out an exasperated huff, crossing his arms like he was trying to keep himself from exploding.

    ¡°Of course you don¡¯t get it. If you did, we wouldn¡¯t be in this ridiculous situation.¡±

    He stepped closer, frustration carved into every inch of his expression.

    ¡°Listen closely, Dalton Xavier¡­¡±

    His tone had changed. It was deeper. Sharper.

    ¡°The Dracknum bloodline is immune to illusions! They¡¯re natural-born hunters! And yet, you spent SIX FUCKING MONTHS in the Black Forest¡ªcompletely unnecessarily!¡±

    I froze for a second.

    ¡°¡­What?¡±

    ¡°Yes! SIX MONTHS wasted! Sure, the wolves were a nice bonus, they taught us a lot about¡ª¡±

    He stopped abruptly, as if something had just hit him.

    For a fraction of a second, his golden eyes softened. His jaw tightened.

    I could see the pain in his words.

    But he didn¡¯t stop.

    ¡°On top of that¡­ Leopold gave you an insanely overpowered item!¡± He gestured wildly, his face turning red from sheer frustration. ¡°And you didn¡¯t even know how to use it properly!¡±

    I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off before I could even try.

    ¡°You¡­ do you even realize what you inherited? The powers you have? There are over twenty basic spells, Dalton. More than twenty. And yet, you¡­¡±

    He gritted his teeth, breathing heavily.

    ¡°¡­You learned four. Four.¡±

    His hands trembled slightly, his whole body brimming with disbelief and anger.

    ¡°How does anyone manage to be this¡­ this¡­¡± He swallowed hard, inhaling deeply before finally exhaling:

    ¡°¡­this stupid?¡±

    He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

    ¡°But I have to be honest. Your idea of increasing the flow of magic in and out to strengthen spells was¡­ interesting. It should¡¯ve been impossible under any other circumstances, but since it actually worked, I¡¯ll count that as one of the few times you¡¯ve been smart.¡±

    He jabbed a finger directly at my chest.

    ¡°You have the blood of a hunter running through your veins! You are a Dracknum!¡±

    ¡°And not to mention¡­ not to mention¡­¡± His breathing grew ragged, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

    I watched him struggle to catch his breath, yelling so fast and so much that he could barely keep up with his own thoughts.

    And then¡ª

    ¡°Not to mention that you¡¯re a Dracknum! And on top of that, you didn¡¯t even use my memories properly!¡±

    He was gasping, his eyes blazing with pure frustration.

    ¡°Who the hell gets poisoned by a DAMN PHANTOM BERR¡ª¡±

    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±

    My voice exploded through the void, cutting him off mid-rant. My fists clenched so hard that my nails dug into my palms.

    My breathing was heavy. My whole body trembled.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know a damn thing!¡±

    For the first time, Alexander¡¯s eyes widened. But I didn¡¯t stop.

    ¡°I was happy with my life, OK?!¡± My words came out raw, unfiltered.

    ¡°Yes, I lost my parents! But I moved on! I had friends, I had people I could trust, I had family who were still there for me!¡±

    My vision blurred.

    ¡°I was studying at one of the best universities in the world!¡±

    My hands shook.

    ¡°But all of that ended because of a DAMN TRUCK!¡±

    My voice echoed through the emptiness around us.

    Alexander just stood there, staring at me¡ªhis eyes wider than ever.

    But I wasn¡¯t done.

    My breathing was ragged.

    ¡°I spent hours, days, years in a white void!¡±

    My throat burned.

    ¡°Alone! WITH NO ONE!¡±

    My nails dug even deeper into my skin, my teeth clenched so hard it hurt.

    ¡°Reliving my life, my memories, my moments¡ªjust so I wouldn¡¯t LOSE MY SANITY!¡±

    My vision trembled, but I kept going.

    ¡°And then, just when I thought it was finally over¡­¡±

    My eyes locked onto his.

    ¡°I found out I was revived and thrown into this world to do WHO KNOWS WHAT!¡±

    My voice broke at the end.

    Silence.

    Alexander stared at me, his fists clenched, his jaw tight. His golden eyes burned with an emotion I couldn¡¯t place.

    And then¡­ he stepped forward.

    His teeth clenched so hard I almost heard them grind.

    ¡°BUT YOU THINK I ASKED FOR THIS?!¡±

    He inhaled sharply, his voice shaking.

    ¡°You at least had something. Family. Friends. You mattered to someone, Dalton.¡±

    I could feel it¡ªmaybe because of our connection, maybe just from the look on his face.

    But just looking at him made my heart ache.

    ¡°Dalton, you at least got the chance to exist.¡±

    His gaze dropped, his voice barely above a whisper.

    ¡°¡­And me?¡±

 Echoes of the Soul

    ¡°Dalton, you complain with a full mouth.¡±

    Alexander¡¯s voice cut through the silence, carrying a weight I had never heard before.

    ¡°You¡¯re arrogant. Impulsive. Ignorant. And above all¡­ a complete idiot.¡±

    He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as if gathering the strength to go on.

    I¡­ couldn¡¯t argue.

    My mouth opened, trying to form words, but nothing came out. Just air. As if my voice had been ripped away before it could even reach my lips.

    Alexander¡¯s gaze was locked onto mine. And for the first time, I saw the pain in his eyes.

    ¡°Do you know what it¡¯s like to be born¡­ to grow up¡­ to meet people?¡±

    His body trembled. ¡°Do you know what it¡¯s like to laugh, to have fun, to feel pain, to lose the ones you love¡­?¡±

    Tears began to roll down his face, staining his pale cheeks.

    ¡°Do you know what it¡¯s like to have dreams? To make plans for the future? To picture your life, your goals¡­¡± He pressed a hand against his chest as if trying to keep his heart from shattering.

    ¡°¡­Only to find out that your entire existence is a lie?¡±

    My chest tightened. But I couldn¡¯t respond.

    Because¡­ he was right.

    Alexander was nothing more than the result of a mythical-level spell, a piece of magic cast to give me a new identity in this world.

    His life¡­ was an illusion.

    His memories, his relationships, his past¡­ everything had been fabricated.

    To me, he was just a carefully constructed series of events designed to create the perfect cover. But to him¡­

    ¡­It was his entire existence.

    My heart pounded against my ribs. My body was frozen, but my mind screamed, desperately trying to deny the truth.

    But how could I deny what had always been right in front of me?

    And then¡­ something stirred in my mind.

    A memory.

    A question asked long ago.

    "What is a soul?"

    For a brief moment, it was as if we were no longer there. As if the darkness around us had been swallowed by something greater¡ªan echo from the past.

    I remembered Alexander asking that question to Leopold, shortly after his mother¡¯s death.

    And, in his usual eccentric and enigmatic way, Leopold had answered:

    "I don¡¯t know, little Alexander¡­ Perhaps the soul is a tangle of memories, perhaps it¡¯s what defines the essence of a person. Some say it¡¯s the foundation of the spirit, others believe it¡¯s something even deeper. But there is one truth I do know¡­"

    He paused, his gaze distant, as if seeing beyond the visible world.

    "No one knows where the soul comes from, and even less where it goes. No one knows if it can truly die¡­ or if it merely gets lost in time."

    His voice was soft, yet filled with a mysterious wisdom.

    "But there is something simple about its existence: as long as there is someone who remembers those who have passed, their soul will never completely fade away."

    And then, he had smiled. A smile carrying a meaning that I was only just beginning to understand.

    "Because, in the end¡­ what are we, if not the marks we leave on others?"

    The echo of the memory vanished. The darkness returned.

    I looked at Alexander.

    "Alexander, you¡ª"

    "Don¡¯t say anything." He cut me off, his voice hoarse, exhausted. "I can feel everything you feel¡­ remember?"

    My body tensed.

    He knew.

    He had always known.

    "Dalton¡­" He let out a bitter laugh, running his hands through his hair. "Of all people, you proved me right."

    He took a step forward. "From the very beginning, you denied me."

    I froze.

    "You claimed I had completely merged with you?"

    He let out a dry, hollow chuckle. "A lie."

    My chest tightened.

    "You didn¡¯t accept me. You just shoved me into the shadows of your consciousness. You rejected me. My personality. My existence."

    "Dalton, you have no idea how terrifyingly lonely it is to have your entire understanding of life shattered. To be forced to mentally age in a matter of hours. To watch, helplessly, as someone who is supposed to be you¡ªwearing your face, speaking to your family, living your life¡ªcarries on, all while knowing deep down that it isn¡¯t you. Because you¡¯re still there, trapped in the darkness of the subconscious, struggling desperately not to fade away completely."

    His fists clenched, his eyes burning with something raw, something furious.

    "You denied me the right to exist."

    I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

    "To you, I was never anything more than a convenient disguise."

    His voice wavered.

    "But to me¡­"

    His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw true resentment in them.

    "To me, YOU are the source of my pain."

    Silence fell between us¡ªheavy, suffocating.

    And then, he smiled.

    Not a mocking smile. Not a playful one.

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    But a smile laced with hatred¡­ and something else. Something I couldn¡¯t quite grasp.

    "Funny, isn¡¯t it?"

    He tilted his head slightly.

    "The one responsible for my existence¡­"

    His voice dropped to a whisper.

    ¡°¡­ is also the person I hate the most.¡±

    Deep down, I knew.

    In that moment, as the weight of the truth crashed down on me, I realized something I had never been willing to admit before.

    Yes, I had made a mistake.

    Maybe an unforgivable one.

    Maybe one that could never be undone.

    But¡­ that didn¡¯t mean I wouldn¡¯t try.

    I could blame Leopold for summoning me. I could blame Augustus for giving the orders. I could blame Oswald for assisting in the process.

    But at the end of the day, the real culprit was me.

    I was the one who chose to stay in this world.

    I was the one who chose to ignore Alexander.

    I was the one who pushed him into the shadows of my consciousness.

    And now¡­ I had to fix it.

    I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. My fists unclenched. My hands were tense, but I let them relax. My entire body loosened.

    And then, I started walking.

    Each step felt heavier than the last.

    Each step felt like a declaration.

    My eyes locked onto his.

    Alexander watched me warily, shoulders rigid, as if bracing for another verbal attack. But he didn¡¯t back away.

    I took another step forward.

    And then¡­ I spoke.

    ¡°Alexander.¡±

    He didn¡¯t respond, just kept watching me.

    ¡°You say you can feel everything I feel.¡±

    Another step.

    "But I can feel you too."

    Another step.

    His eyes narrowed slightly.

    "I know you hate me." My words were calm, but they carried the weight of truth. "I can feel it."

    ¡®After all¡­ I hate myself too¡¯. I murmured in the depths of my mind.

    His fists clenched, but he still didn¡¯t move.

    "But you¡­"

    ¡®Just like me.¡¯

    "¡­ You also want to be understood."

    The tension in his face wavered.

    "You want to be loved."

    ¡®Who doesn¡¯t?¡¯ I thought to myself.

    His hands trembled ever so slightly.

    "You want proof that your life is real. That someone will look at you and say that you are truly YOU."

    His eyes widened.

    And then, I stopped¡ªright in front of him.

    The small distance between us felt like a vast chasm. A chasm I was about to cross.

    "So here I am."

    The silence between us was suffocating.

    But I pressed on.

    "Alexander, you exist."

    His lips parted slightly.

    "And I don¡¯t say that just to say it."

    The image of Leopold flashed through my mind. His words¡ªalways cryptic¡ªfinally made sense.

    "A wise fool, but still a wise man, once said that we are nothing more than the marks we leave on others."

    Alexander blinked. His body trembled slightly.

    "And that same wise man also said that magic is capable of the impossible. It doesn¡¯t create something from nothing¡ªit merely reveals a new side of what already is."

    Now, he was truly listening.

    "Alexander, you left your mark on every person you''ve ever met."

    My voice grew steadier.

    "Not because you were created by magic. Not because someone forged your past. But because this is your life."

    His eyes widened in shock, but he said nothing.

    I continued.

    "You exist in everyone¡¯s memory¡ªnot as a lie, but because you lived. You were born. Your. NO. Our mother felt the pain of bringing you into this world, the warmth of your body, and true happiness when she looked at your face."

    My chest tightened.

    But I didn¡¯t waver.

    "Alexander, you are not my disguise."

    My voice strengthened.

    "And I am not your creator."

    The distance between us vanished as I took the final step.

    And then¡ªI embraced him.

    Alexander froze.

    "We are me," I whispered.

    His fists, once clenched, loosened slightly.

    "Dalton Xavier¡­ was our past life."

    My voice was firm. Unshakable.

    "Alexander Dracknum¡­ is our life now."

    His eyes shimmered, as if something inside him had finally broken free.

    "Paula Xavier is our mother."

    His body trembled in my arms.

    "Freya Dracknum is also our mother."

    He squeezed his eyes shut, silent sobs shaking his frame.

    "Vicente Xavier is our father."

    His fingers clenched tightly around my clothes, gripping as if to anchor himself.

    "Just as Thomas Dracknum is also our father."

    And then¡­ Alexander cried.

    Not out of anger.

    Not out of frustration.

    But because, for the first time¡­

    He was seen.

    I loosened my embrace and took hold of his shoulders, looking into his tearful, golden eyes¡ªso young, yet carrying so much weight.

    "Leopold was wrong¡­" I began, my voice calm but unwavering.

    A shiver ran through me as his words echoed in my soul.

    "We are not two souls that merged into one."

    His grip on my clothes tightened, as if holding onto something real.

    "In fact¡­ we never truly fused at all."

    My heart stopped for a moment.

    And then, I spoke the truth.

    "We are the same soul."

    He lifted his face, his golden eyes shining with newfound clarity.

    "But one that was forcibly split¡­ and is now being made whole again."

    My legs wavered.

    But I didn¡¯t let go.

    "Names¡­ are just words."

    Alexander let out a short, melancholic laugh.

    "Dalton¡­ Alexander¡­ Who cares?" My voice trembled slightly, but it carried an undeniable truth.

    "What matters is the concept. The spirit. The essence. The soul."

    "The body doesn¡¯t mean a damn thing. At first glance, we may seem different."

    I took a deep breath.

    "But deep down, we are the same."

    ¡®Yeah¡­ just two fools, searching for recognition.¡¯ I finished the thought in my mind.

    He looked up at me, and this time¡ªI saw acceptance in his eyes.

    "Because, in the end, we came from the same womb¡­ and we long for the same thing."

    I closed my eyes for a moment, letting those words carve themselves into me.

    "To be accepted¡­"

    My chest trembled.

    "To be loved¡­"

    I heard a soft sigh, followed by a faint laugh¡ªone filled with emotions that didn¡¯t need to be spoken.

    "By those who matter to us."

    Alexander completed my words. And in that moment, everything made sense.

    A warmth spread through my chest, like something that had always been missing had finally returned to where it belonged.

    I couldn¡¯t say how much time passed.

    Seconds. Minutes. Maybe hours.

    But for the first time in a long time¡ªperhaps for the first time since I awoke in this world¡ª

    I felt whole.

    As if all the misaligned pieces had finally clicked into place.

    As if, at last, I was whole.

    My heart beat strong. Steady.

    My skin felt lighter, as though an invisible weight had been lifted.

    And then, slowly, I opened my eyes.

    Alexander was no longer there.

    There were no longer two voices.

    No longer another presence inside me.

    But¡­ he hadn¡¯t disappeared. He never would.

    Because he was me. And I was him.

    I looked down at my hands. Small again.

    But this time, I understood.

    Something had changed.

    And this time¡­ it was forever.

    I took a deep breath, feeling certainty in every beat of my heart.

    Then, without hesitation, I whispered a truth I had always denied.

    "I am Dalton Xavier." I stopped for a brief moment.

    "And at the same time¡­" I rose my head looking in the place Alexander was

    "I am also Alexander Dracknum."

 Its the Thirtieth Time Already

    The anomaly in the sky had already vanished. Now, only a high moon cast its pale glow over the Black Forest, its shadows stretching like silent specters between the trees. The battlefield had fallen into an almost complete silence, broken only by the hum of insects and the gentle rustle of leaves¡ªa stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded there just moments before.

    Israel Dracknum sat beneath the shade of a sturdy tree, his posture relaxed though his senses remained sharp. With practiced, precise movements, he cleaned his claymore, the silver sheen of the blade catching the moonlight as he wiped away the final traces of blood.

    Across the clearing, Nikolas Beaumont trudged forward, dragging Oswin, who was still unconscious. The boy was lighter than he looked, but exhaustion made the task more grueling than it should have been.

    With some effort, he managed to bring him over to where Gl¨®ria was resting, propped up against the trunk of a nearby tree. She was already there, motionless, her hair spilling over her shoulders, her breathing slow and steady¡ªsigns that, despite having fainted, her condition wasn¡¯t anything serious.

    Nikolas paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. His gaze flicked from Oswin, sprawled on the ground, to Gl¨®ria resting just a few feet away.

    Something in his expression tightened with discomfort.

    He furrowed his brow, thinking.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ better not,¡± he muttered under his breath, mostly to himself.

    Without giving it a second thought, he dropped Oswin right where he stood¡ªat a safe distance from the girl.

    He didn¡¯t need any more trouble. Leaving a kid soaked in urine right next to an unconscious young girl? Yeah, that definitely wasn¡¯t the best idea.

    Nikolas let out a long sigh, straightening up as his eyes drifted toward the night sky. The dark clouds had cleared, revealing the solitary moon that now shone over the Black Forest, its silver light spilling across the wreckage left behind.

    All that was left to do now was wait.

    But that didn¡¯t bother him.

    Israel seemed to share the same sentiment. There was no reason for anxiety or impatience. The anomaly had been dealt with, and though the enemies had, regrettably, managed to escape, that chapter was closed for now.

    But... not all of them.

    One hadn¡¯t managed to escape. The disheveled-haired boy was still out cold beside Israel.

    Yet, it wasn¡¯t exactly a victory. Alexander had been dragged into the demon dimension. And now, the only thing they could do was wait¡ªwait for someone with enough experience to arrive and tell them if saving him was even possible.

    And so, time crawled on.

    The forest around them was silent, a jarring contrast to the brutal battle that had raged there not long ago.

    Gl¨®ria and Oswin remained unconscious, trapped in a deep, restless sleep.

    Nikolas, on the other hand, was barely holding himself together. The heavy shadows under his eyes said it all. If he so much as blinked too long, he¡¯d be asleep before he knew it.

    But he couldn¡¯t let that happen. He had to stay awake.

    A faint tremor ran through his body, his boots slipping slightly on the damp earth. He forced himself to stand tall. But time... time was a merciless opponent.

    Israel, meanwhile, remained under the tree¡¯s shade, patiently cleaning his claymore with almost surgical precision. His face stayed calm, untouched by exhaustion.

    Nikolas swayed on his feet.

    One minute.

    He clenched his fists, took a deep breath.

    Two minutes.

    His eyelids grew heavier.

    Ten minutes.

    He rubbed his face, dragging himself back from the edge of sleep.

    Thirty minutes.

    His knees buckled for a heartbeat.

    And then¡­

    By the time the wait stretched to 45 minutes, exhaustion finally won. Nikolas¡¯s body gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, slipping into an inevitable, heavy sleep.

    The forest stayed quiet.  And the night went on¡­ calm and undisturbed.

    <hr>

    The rising sun peeked through the colossal mountain ranges of Magnum, spilling its golden light over the principality.

    The city stirred to life slowly, yet with the precision of a perfectly tuned machine.

    Miners were already up, ready for another long day of labor deep within the mines.

    Blacksmiths lit their forges, the first flames casting an orange glow across the streets as the rhythmic pounding of hammers soon echoed through the alleys.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Lumberjacks sharpened their tools and secured their leather packs, preparing to venture into the dense forests to supply the city with the wood crucial for the approaching winter.

    Guards switched shifts, the weary faces of the night patrol giving way to the sharp, focused expressions of those taking their posts at dawn.

    And out in the great training yard, the knight apprentices had already begun their morning drills, moving with discipline under the watchful eyes of their instructors as they prepared for the day''s lessons.

    At the heart of the Principality, where the streets grew wider and the buildings stood taller and prouder, there was an estate that, with its solid and imposing architecture, resembled more a castle than a mere mansion.

    Inside that grand residence, one of the largest rooms was just beginning to feel the touch of the morning sun.

    Light poured through the towering arched windows, casting a soft glow across the polished wooden floor, slowly sliding up the stone walls until it finally reached the bed where a young boy lay sleeping.

    The golden warmth drifted lazily over the fine linen sheets, inching its way forward until it gently brushed against the child¡¯s peaceful, sleeping face.

    He stirred restlessly, mumbling in his sleep as the warm rays began to drag him from his slumber. Still wrapped in the comfort of his bed, he turned over, trying to escape the intrusive light.

    But then¡ª

    THUD!

    The grand double doors of the room flew open with brutal force, making the windows tremble from the impact.

    "LUCIAN, YOU DAMN FOOL OF A SON! THE SUN''S BEEN UP FOR AGES! GET OUT OF BED NOW!"

    The booming voice tore through the quiet of the room, startling the birds outside into a frantic flight.

    "What the hell!"

    The boy jolted upright, springing to his feet on the mattress, instinctively falling into a defensive stance, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to piece together what in the world was happening.

    The figure who had burst into the room was a broad, heavyset man, his frame a balance between hardened muscle and the kind of weight that hinted at glory days long gone, though his commanding posture worked hard to conceal it.

    He filled the room almost as much as his voice did.

    Long, darkened red hair fell loosely over his shoulders.

    His white linen shirt¡ªdespite its fine quality¡ªlooked like it was moments from surrendering under the strain of his wide chest. The fabric pulled tight, revealing the raw strength beneath, while the sleeves fluttered with every exaggerated gesture, his muscles flexing involuntarily with each sharp movement.

    "LUCIAN!" he repeated, voice thick with authority and barely restrained irritation, echoing through the vast room like thunder on the verge of crashing down.

    Across the room, now realizing it wasn¡¯t some kind of threat, the boy collapsed back into the tangle of sheets. With hair sticking out in every direction, he blinked a few times, his eyes opening lazily as the weight of reality began to settle over him.

    His body was slowly waking up, but his mind stubbornly refused to accept that it was time to leave the bed.

    "Old man... you¡¯ve seriously got a few screws loose¡­" Lucian muttered, voice sluggish and drowsy.

    The man¡¯s brow furrowed, but the boy merely let out a low grumble, turning onto his side and burying his face into the pillow as if that alone might make him vanish from the view of the increasingly impatient figure looming over him.

    "Can''t even get a decent night''s sleep with all this noise..." he sighed, desperately trying to ignore the overwhelming presence filling the room.

    But then¡­

    Lucian opened his mouth and said quite possibly the worst thing he could have at that moment.

    "Who the hell goes around yelling like that in the middle of the night?" His voice was muffled by the pillow, but clear enough to be heard. "You should probably be more worried about that shirt of yours before it explodes..."

    He didn¡¯t realize what he had just done.

    But the man did.

    And then¡ª

    CRACK!

    One of the buttons on the man¡¯s shirt popped clean off, shooting across the room like a bullet and shattering the window with a sharp, echoing crash, sending shards of glass spilling across the windowsill.

    The silence that followed was more terrifying than any shout could have been.

    Lucian only realized something had gone terribly wrong when a cold shiver ran down his spine.

    Slowly, he turned his head just enough to take in the scene.

    The man stood perfectly still, but a vein on his temple throbbed violently. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles creaked.

    Mana pulsed off of him in waves, filling the room with a suffocating pressure.

    Then, in a calmness far more frightening than if he¡¯d roared, the man whispered:

    "I think I''ve been far too lenient with your upbringing¡­"

    And then... he moved.

    Lucian barely had time to react.

    "DAD, WAIT!"

    "GET UP!"

    The punch landed squarely on the top of Lucian¡¯s head with devastating force, and the impact didn¡¯t just rip him out of bed¡ªit obliterated the entire thing.

    CRASH!

    The wooden frame splintered and collapsed, sheets and pillows flying across the room as Lucian hit the stone floor with a dull thud.

    For a moment, there was no pain.

    Just silence.

    Lucian lay there, stunned, trying to process what had just happened.

    And then¡­

    ¡°DAMN IT, OLD MAN! NOT AGAIN!¡± he yelled, now fully and painfully awake.

    Clutching his throbbing head, he clumsily sat up, shooting a glare equal parts exasperated and outraged at the man towering over him, arms crossed like a judge passing sentence.

    "THAT''S THE 30TH BED THIS MONTH! WHO THE HELL WAKES UP THEIR ONLY SON WITH A PUNCH?!"

    The man didn¡¯t so much as blink.

    The answer came without hesitation, delivered with such rock-solid certainty that it only made the situation worse:

    "The kind of man whose son only learns through fists, not words."

    Lucian¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief.

    Then, the man uncrossed his arms and raised a clenched fist, wrapped in a reddish-brown aura that pulsed like burning embers.

    "So? You getting up... or would you like me to assist?"

    Lucian swallowed hard. Now fully awake, he could feel the sheer pressure radiating off his father. He knew exactly what was coming if he said the wrong thing.

    <hr>

 Shadows in the Rift (1)

    ¡®Huh¡­?¡¯

    With effort, I forced my eyes open.

    My senses returned gradually, as if each one was struggling to wake from a deep, heavy slumber. My body felt like solid lead, my muscles numb, and every movement demanded more energy than I had to give.

    Something damp and rough brushed against my fingers in slow, rhythmic motions.

    I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my blurry vision, and then¡ªlike a jolt of electricity¡ªthe scene before me hit with full force.

    The sky¡­

    A dull, ominous red stretched endlessly above, as if the very atmosphere had been stained with old, dried blood.

    Beneath it, the world was enclosed by towering walls of jagged stone, rising on either side like massive, natural fortresses.

    And in front of me, a vast crevice split the ground¡ªa rugged, winding path stretching straight ahead for dozens, maybe even hundreds, of meters.

    ¡°But¡­ what¡­?¡± I murmured, my voice hoarse and weak, barely recognizing the sound of my own words.

    ¡°Where the hell am I?¡±

    One thing was certain¡ªthis was no longer the Black Forest.

    I tried to move, feeling a strange, unfamiliar weight pressing down on me. Yet, oddly enough, when I finally managed to sit up, my body felt unnaturally light.

    Except for my right hand.

    A dull, throbbing pain pulsed through it, like a wound slowly healing over time.

    Lowering my gaze, that¡¯s when I noticed.

    The wolf pup was there.

    The small creature, its fur a soft shade of gray, watched me with sharp, attentive eyes, licking my hand with quiet dedication. Its ears twitched in sync with my breathing, and its tail swayed gently against the dust-covered ground, scattered with bits of broken stone.

    For a brief moment, I couldn¡¯t help but let out a tired smile.

    "You have any idea how we ended up here¡­?" I murmured, sliding my free hand over the pup¡¯s head, my fingers sinking into its rough, tangled fur, still coated in dust and bits of stone.

    It lifted its gaze to me, eyes gleaming with that silent, almost uncanny intelligence animals sometimes have. But instead of answering¡ªnot that it could¡ªit simply went back to licking my injured fingers, as if to say, ¡®I can¡¯t tell you, but I can help.¡¯

    I let out a tired sigh.

    "Forget it¡­ even if you did know, you wouldn¡¯t be able to tell me, would you?"

    The pup let out a soft whine¡ªsomething close to a chuckle, almost mocking the irony¡ªbefore resuming its quiet, dedicated work on my wounded hand.

    That was when I finally took in my surroundings.

    I looked around, examining the area with sharper focus.

    We were¡­ at the bottom of a ravine.

    There was no other explanation. The walls around me were massive, sheer cliffs of dark, uneven stone. Black veins ran through them like old scars, weaving between deep cracks where thick, sticky moss clung stubbornly. Tiny insects scurried through the crevices, too preoccupied with their own survival to pay me any mind.

    But¡­ how?

    How had I ended up here?

    I didn¡¯t remember falling.

    I didn¡¯t even remember being near a place like this.

    The last thing¡­

    The last thing I remembered was the illusion.

    Or at least, what I thought had been an illusion.

    But now¡­ now, nothing about this felt unreal.

    Everything was too real.

    The cold stone beneath my hands.

    The damp, earthy scent hanging in the air.

    The metallic taste lingered in my dry mouth.

    And if this was real¡­ then there was no denying it.

    I was far. Way too far.

    This was definitely no longer the Black Forest.

    A chill ran down my spine as my mind raced, trying to piece everything together¡ªfrom the beginning of the blood moon to the clash with the mercenaries.

    And then¡ª

    ¡°Shit!¡± I shouted, my voice echoing through the ravine like a muffled thunderclap.

    ¡°The rupture.¡±

    The words slipped out before I could even stop them.

    ¡°Somehow¡­ I must have crossed the rupture¡­ and ended up in the Demon Forest¡­¡±

    WOOF!

    The pup barked, either agreeing with my conclusion or simply sharing my frustration.

    I ran a hand over my face, trying to keep the rising panic at bay.

    ¡°Calm down, Alexander¡­¡± I muttered to myself, shutting my eyes for a moment. ¡°The family must be looking for a way to get me out of here¡­¡±

    But then¡ª

    A sharp, ice-cold realization sliced through me.

    My eyes snapped open, wide with horror.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I exploded again. ¡°I¡¯m at the bottom of a ravine! How the hell are they supposed to find me down here?!¡±

    And worse¡ª

    ¡°Will they be fast enough¡­ before some demonic beast finds me first?

    <hr>

    The morning sun barely managed to warm the cold lands of Magnum, where vast mountains remained cloaked in a thin mist, as if winter had never truly abandoned the region. A frigid breeze wove its way through the grand corridors of the Magnum family¡¯s estate, slipping through window cracks and brushing against the heavy tapestries with an almost imperceptible whisper.

    But to Lucian, the cold was nothing more than a trivial detail.

    Already awake and fully dressed, he strode through the estate¡¯s long stone corridors, wearing clothing that most would consider far too light for such a hostile climate¡ªfitted black leather boots, thick wool trousers, and a white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, exposing part of his chest and making it abundantly clear that the cold didn¡¯t bother him in the slightest.

    The reason?

    His blood.

    A descendant of a lineage renowned for both its raw strength and extraordinary resilience, Lucian was far from an ordinary child. At just ten years old, his height and build easily made him look thirteen, if not older. When combined with his naturally broad shoulders, developing muscles, and imposing presence, it was easy to forget that he was still just a boy.

    At his side walked a young woman, her steps quiet and composed. With delicate features and pale skin, she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her attire was impeccable¡ªfar more refined than that of the other servants they passed along the way. A perfectly tailored black outfit, modest yet elegant, matched the dark hue of her eyes and the long, sleek hair cascading down to her waist.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    This was Marie¡ªLucian¡¯s personal attendant and tutor.

    She was always by his side, ensuring he met his responsibilities and maintained proper conduct. A difficult task, to say the least, given the boy¡¯s restless nature.

    ¡°Damn father!¡± Lucian complained, his voice carrying lightly through the corridor as he passed a row of tall windows at an unhurried pace. ¡°I haven¡¯t had a decent night¡¯s sleep in months!¡±

    Marie cast him a brief, concerned glance before discreetly scanning their surroundings.

    ¡°Prince Lucian,¡± she reprimanded softly, stepping a little closer and lowering her voice to a near whisper. ¡°Your Highness, your father will punish you again if he hears you speaking like that.¡±

    Lucian scoffed, crossing his arms and kicking a loose pebble down the hall.

    ¡°As if he doesn¡¯t already¡­¡± he muttered, his eyes narrowing with pure frustration.

    Marie sighed but chose not to stoke the boy¡¯s anger any further.

    As they walked on, they passed through the grand entrance hall, where ancient tapestries swayed gently with the breeze slipping through the cracks in the door. Servants and guards stepped aside, bowing respectfully as the young prince passed¡ªthough he hardly seemed to notice their reverence.

    A short while later, they emerged into the front courtyard, where the air felt even colder. The gray sky stretched overhead like a heavy shroud, and the towering mountains of Magnum loomed in silence, standing watch like ancient sentinels.

    Waiting for him was a sturdy yet elegant carriage, reinforced with strong wooden panels. Two powerful horses stood ready, their breath misting in the frigid air.

    Lucian climbed in with ease, settling into the fur-lined interior.

    Marie remained at the entrance, watching him closely. Before the coachman could set off, she bowed her head slightly and said,

    ¡°Safe travels, Prince Lucian.¡±

    Her voice was soft and formal as always, but her eyes brimmed with quiet concern.

    Lucian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he forced a small, measured smile¡ªa practiced expression meant to mask any trace of frustration.

    ¡°Thank you, Marie. I¡¯ll see you later.¡±

    She didn¡¯t deserve to bear the weight of his foul mood. No matter how exhausting his routine had become or how suffocating the patriarch¡¯s strictness felt, taking it out on others had never been his way.

    The carriage doors shut behind him, and with a faint creak, the vehicle began to move. The sound of its heavy wheels echoed through the stone courtyard before fading into the crunch of dry leaves and snapping branches along the road.

    Lucian watched in silence through the window.

    The landscape shifted as they left the heart of the Principality. The wide, paved streets soon gave way to packed dirt roads, flanked by towering trees that stood like the solemn columns of an ancient, shadowed temple.

    But the farther he traveled from the estate, the more the tranquility of nature was replaced by the unseen weight of the mines.

    The air¡ªonce crisp and biting¡ªgrew thick and heavy, filled with a fine dust and invisible particles that scratched at his throat with every breath.

    The music of the forest gave way to the rhythmic, unrelenting sound of human toil.

    Hoarse shouts of orders.

    The dry clink of tools striking rock.

    The almost hypnotic rhythm of men working¡ªstriking, pulling, striking, pulling¡ªa repetitive cycle that echoed through the mountains like an unending ritual.

    Lucian rested his forehead against the cold glass of the carriage window and let out a long sigh.

    "And to think they call this a noble life¡­" he muttered.

    When the carriage finally slowed and came to a stop, there were no servants rushing to open the door. No overseer hurrying forward with bows and honeyed words.

    The coachman sat motionless at the front, gripping his own wrist as if restraining the instinct to so much as glance back.

    Lucian didn¡¯t wait for anyone.

    With a sharp click, he pushed the door open and stepped out on his own.

    His attire was different now.

    A dark leather jumpsuit, reinforced to withstand the wear and tear of labor. Thick gloves, already worn from time and effort. Heavy boots that sank slightly into the uneven ground. A sturdy linen shirt¡ªthe only real protection against the biting cold, laced with the dust of the underground.

    At his belt, a small leather canteen swayed gently¡ªhalf-empty, but enough to keep his throat from going dry in the first few hours of work.

    Standing before the gaping maw of the mine, Lucian took a deep breath.

    As ironic as it was¡­

    This place was his personal hell.

    But it was also the only place where he could exist without masks.

    No watchful eyes of the court.

    No suffocating rules of protocol.

    No burden of a surname that, to many, meant more than the person who carried it.

    Down in the mine¡­ he was just another worker.

    And in the end, that was freeing.

    He made his way to the side of the entrance, where an old wooden crate sat overflowing with pickaxes worn down by years of use.

    Without hurry, he rummaged through the pile until he found his own.

    Carved into the handle by hand, a single name stood out: Lucian.

    A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips¡ªalmost nostalgic. He rested the pickaxe against his shoulder, feeling its familiar weight.

    With steady steps, he crossed into the dark, damp entrance of the mine. The cold deepened, and the scent of earth and iron thickened in the air.

    "And here we go¡­ another day of work," he sighed, pausing for a moment before letting out a bitter chuckle.

    "At this rate¡­ am I even still a noble?"

    <hr>

    ¡°Just where the fuck are we?¡±

    The question burned in my mind as I stared at the glowing fireflies, their soft light flickering against the damp stone.

    I spent hours in that abyss, sitting on the cold earth, unmoving¡ªalmost as if the sheer weight of my situation had pinned me to the ground. There was no rush to stand, no point in pretending I had a plan. I simply sat in silence, studying my surroundings, trying to make sense of where I had ended up¡ªand, more importantly, how the hell I was going to get out.

    I took deep breaths, filling my lungs with air that, surprisingly, felt purer than anything I had ever breathed before.

    As my eyes scanned every inch of those hostile rock walls, my mind struggled to summon the courage I needed.

    One thing was certain: staying put wouldn¡¯t save me.

    It didn¡¯t matter whether this was the Black Forest, the Demon Forest, or some other unknown hell¡­

    I had to get out of there.

    But before courage could push me to my feet¡ª

    My stomach growled.

    Quiet. Treacherous.

    But loud enough to remind me that surviving meant more than just escaping. I needed to eat.

    ¡°Damn it¡­¡± I muttered, dragging a hand down my face, as if I could wipe the hunger away. ¡°And what exactly are we supposed to eat?¡±

    I glanced at the pup beside me, expecting an indifferent reaction at best.

    But he surprised me.

    Calmly, he turned his head toward the ravine walls, ears twitching slightly, as if to say: ¡®Look for yourself.¡¯

    I followed his gaze, curious.

    And then I saw them.

    Clinging to the rocky slopes of the ravine, scattered like tiny beacons of hope in the midst of all the gloom, were thick, dark vines covered in glistening green moss. Small clusters of insects crawled through the cracks¡ªfat larvae, gleaming beetles, silent spiders, and even fireflies that cast a faint glow into the dampest, deepest corners.

    I held my breath.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me¡­¡±

    The pup simply looked back at me, eyes calm, as if to say: ¡®It¡¯s your choice, human. But we won¡¯t last long just admiring the scenery.¡¯

    I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking back to the sight before me.

    Hunger wasn¡¯t something I could ignore forever.

    And for the first time, I realized that surviving here might be far more disgusting than I had ever imagined.

    ¡°¡­That¡¯s revolting,¡± I whispered, my stomach twisting at the thought.

    Eating bugs? That had never even been a last resort in the worst scenarios I had envisioned.

    But then¡ªsomething bothered me.

    I looked closer. Really looked.

    And suddenly, a thought struck me.

    ¡°Wait¡­ how is this possible?¡±

    My gaze locked onto the fireflies, and my mind raced, flipping through pages of books I had read before.

    ¡°Fireflies¡­ Fireflies¡­ Fireflies don¡¯t exist in the Demon Forest.¡±

    The realization hit me like a lightning bolt.

    My hand flew to my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my own heart¡ªa flicker of hope igniting inside me.

    I turned to the pup. Then back to myself.

    And finally, the inevitable question formed in my mind:

    "How¡­ how are we fine?"

    According to the records, the Demon Forest was filled with poisonous miasma¡ªdeadly to any ordinary creature.

    And yet, I felt nothing unusual.

    On the contrary¡­

    The air around me was unbelievably pure, clearer than anything I had ever breathed before.

    The pup, now lying beside me, calmly licked his paw, his fur gleaming as if he had never endured the chaos we had just survived.

    Something was definitely wrong.

    I frowned, lifting my gaze toward the sky above.

    That dull, reddish hue stretched endlessly, like an eternal, frozen twilight. A crimson veil, unmoving in time. No trace of the toxic mist from the Demon Forest. No signs of decay, malice, or death.

    Only silence¡­ and that eerie, unnatural peace.

    And then, finally, it hit me.

    "We¡­ we''re not in the Demon Forest."

    The words escaped as a whisper.

    I let out a long breath, running a hand through my messy hair, trying to make sense of the impossible as I stared at the distorted sky and the jagged rock walls surrounding me.

    "If this isn''t the Demon Forest¡­ then where the hell are we?"

    The pup perked his ears at my question but only gazed at me with that same calm, oblivious expression¡ªlike he had no idea what was going on.

    And honestly, I hadn¡¯t expected him to.

    But deep down¡­ a cold unease was already creeping in.

    Wherever this place was¡­

    It shouldn¡¯t exist.

 Shadows in the Rift (2)

    ¡°If we¡¯re not in the Demon Forest¡­ then¡­ where the hell are we?¡±

    I murmured to myself, my voice faintly echoing against the stone walls of the ravine.

    An unsettling, persistent feeling was beginning to take root inside me.

    Something was off. Something didn¡¯t add up.

    My hand reached up to my hair, already messy from the time I¡¯d spent in the forest, ruffling it even more. The rough, dry texture of the strands only reminded me of how long it had been since I¡¯d had access to anything even remotely close to proper hygiene.

    But that was the least of my concerns.

    I needed to think.

    To reason.

    To put the pieces together.

    I pressed my fingers against my temples, as if I could squeeze some useful information out of my mind.

    ¡°Think, Alexander, think¡­!¡± My voice was low, but heavy with urgency.

    I had read thousands of books. History, Geography, detailed Bestiaries. Dark tales about the Demon Forest, ancient fables of demon hunters, forbidden records on dimensional rifts.

    Even tomes in old languages and treaties on ancestral magic¡ªso complex they were nearly unreadable. With so much knowledge stored within me, finding an answer to what was happening should have been easy.

    But it wasn¡¯t.

    Nothing came.

    Nothing useful.

    There was nothing in the family archives, nothing I had read, nothing that could explain what was happening.

    But the most terrifying thing was that the knowledge was there, and at the same time¡­ it wasn¡¯t.

    Something was wrong.

    Very wrong.

    I ruffled my already disheveled hair even more. My mind strained to find any clue.

    But it was as if¡­ as if someone had torn out the answers before I could read them.

    I frowned. "If I passed through the rift¡­ then I should have ended up in the Demon World."

    But it was obvious I wasn¡¯t there.

    The air was pure.

    The ground didn¡¯t reek of miasma.

    The pup and I weren¡¯t being consumed by demonic corruption.

    None of it made sense.

    But it wasn¡¯t just the uncertainty that terrified me. The real horror came from something even worse.

    Because every time I tried to recall something¡ªanything¡ªthat could help me¡­ all I found was emptiness.

    It was as if my mind were a book with entire pages ripped out.

    Or a photo album where all the pictures had been removed, leaving only blank spaces behind.

    The information should have been there.

    I knew it should have been.

    But it wasn¡¯t.

    And that¡­ That was terrifying.

    I was certain something was supposed to be there. I felt that I had possessed this knowledge at some point, but the moment I reached for it¡­ the void swallowed it whole.

    A dull headache started throbbing at my temples from the mental strain, and my chest tightened with frustration.

    "AHHHH! Fuck this!"

    My patience had reached its limit.

    I shouted, grabbing a nearby rock and hurling it. It ricocheted off the ravine wall before vanishing into the dust.

    The pup beside me flinched slightly, startled by my outburst, but quickly returned to staring at me with those sharp, almost judgmental eyes.

    I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the wave of frustration consuming me. Losing control wouldn¡¯t help.

    As tempting as it was to just sit down and wait to be rescued, I knew the truth: if I stayed put, I¡¯d probably die long before anyone found me.

    So, first step¡­ "I need to figure out which direction to go."

    With a small effort, I stood up and walked toward the ravine walls.

    Normally, I would never get close to something so covered in moss and crawling with bugs, but for some reason, it felt much easier now.

    I touched the rock surface. Cold. Rough. Uneven.

    Thin cracks spread out in unpredictable patterns, like ancient scars carved by time. Some areas were smoother, polished by erosion, while others were jagged and coarse, sharp enough to cut.

    My fingers ran over the damp moss, its sticky texture clinging to my skin.

    When I pulled off a small piece, the green fibers crumbled easily, turning into slimy strands before breaking apart completely.

    The vines hanging along the wall were thin and flexible, some still holding onto tiny droplets of dew, glistening under the reddish sky.

    "Strange¡­" I murmured, rubbing the residue between my fingers before flicking it to the ground.

    Then my attention shifted to the insects scattered across the wall.

    Some were small.

    Others¡­ much bigger.

    So big that a few were larger than an adult¡¯s hand.

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    My stomach twisted slightly at the realization. "If I had entomophobia, I¡¯d have passed out by now¡­"

    I kept watching them, not daring to touch.

    I had no idea if they were poisonous or not, and despite all the knowledge I had accumulated about fauna and flora from bestiaries and scientific records, none of these creatures seemed familiar.

    Nothing.

    It was as if I were standing before a collection of species that had never been cataloged.

    My gaze swept over each one, searching for patterns, anything that might help me understand where I was.

    Strangely luminous fireflies that didn¡¯t react to my movement.

    Green spiders with red stripes, their long, thin legs resembling sharp claws.

    Grotesque centipedes¡ªsome with pointed heads, others with rounded bodies, and some even more bizarre¡­

    Two heads.

    Sometimes, one on each end of the body.

    Sometimes, literally two, fused side by side, as if they were nature¡¯s own mistake.

    "Fascinating¡­" I murmured, studying every detail.

    If I weren¡¯t trapped in this place, I might have even enjoyed the opportunity to examine them more closely.

    But time was a luxury I didn¡¯t have.

    After finishing my observations, I leaned against the wall again and closed my eyes, trying to pick up any sound, any vibration¡ªany clue that something existed beyond this massive rock.

    The silence was deafening.

    Nothing.

    I sighed, stepping back.

    I repeated the process.

    Once.

    Twice.

    Tr¨ºs vezes.

    E todas as tentativas resultaram no mesmo vazio absoluto.

    ¡°Como esperado¡­¡± murmurei, sentindo o peso da frustra??o come?ar a se instalar.

    Meus olhos ent?o se voltaram para cima: As paredes verticais da ravina se erguiam at¨¦ o infinito, e l¨¢ no topo, o c¨¦u avermelhado estendia-se sem fim, sem uma ¨²nica alma ¨¤ vista.

    Virei-me para a esquerda: Um caminho sombrio, desaparecendo na n¨¦voa e na escurid?o, sem indicar para onde levava.

    Virei-me para a direita: Id¨ºntico.

    Como se ambas as dire??es fossem apenas duas vers?es do mesmo nada.

    Eu sabia que, cedo ou tarde, teria que escolher um caminho.

    Mas algo dentro de mim¡­ Me dizia que nenhuma das op??es era a correta.

    E ent?o¡­

    "Auuuurgh!"

    O filhote soltou um som estranho, misturado entre um latido e um rosnado curioso.

    ¡°O que foi?¡± perguntei, virando-me para ele.

    Sem hesitar, o lobo disparou em dire??o ¨¤ parede da ravina.

    No mesmo instante, percebi uma leve camada de ar se formando ao redor da sua cabe?a, como uma barreira quase invis¨ªvel.

    E ent?o, ele se lan?ou contra a rocha.

    ¡°VOC¨º ENLOUQUECEU?!¡± gritei, meus olhos se arregalando.

    O filhote ignorou meu grito completamente e se preparou para avan?ar de novo.

    ¡°Ei! Para com isso!¡±

    Tentei agarr¨¢-lo, mas ele se esquivou rapidamente, mostrando uma agilidade impressionante para algo t?o pequeno.

    Seus olhos dourados estavam fixos na parede, as orelhas abaixadas, o corpo tensionado.

    ¡°O que foi?¡± questionei, come?ando a sentir um arrepio subir pela minha nuca.

    Ele rosnou. Mas n?o para mim.

    At the wall.

    I frowned. "There''s nothing there. I already checked."

    The pup didn¡¯t listen.

    He lunged forward again, ready to throw himself against the stone.

    This time, I didn¡¯t wait.

    I sprang forward, grabbing him at the last second and crashing to the ground under our combined weight.

    "Whoa¡­" I let out a relieved breath, holding him tightly.

    "Don¡¯t ever do that again! Just because¡ª"

    The words died in my throat.

    Because, in the very next moment¡­

    I heard it.

    A faint sound. Almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.

    Dripping.

    My breath hitched for a second.

    My senses sharpened.

    And then¡­

    "Water?" I murmured, eyes widening.

    The pup let out a quiet bark, as if to say, Now you get it?

    And for the first time¡­

    I knew exactly where I needed to go.

    Still sitting on the ground, I straightened up slowly and pressed my ear against the cold earth, closing my eyes to amplify my perception as much as possible.

    The faint sound I had heard before was becoming clearer.

    Droplets.

    Soft echoes.

    Echo.

    My eyes snapped open. "That''s it!"

    Springing to my feet, I started digging with my bare hands, following the instinct growing inside me.

    The pup, without hesitation, joined in¡ªhis small paws flinging dirt back with renewed energy.

    It was an absurd sight¡ªa boy and a wolf pup digging frantically, as if they knew exactly what they were doing.

    And, as strange as it seemed¡­ I did know.

    Even without a logical explanation, something inside me screamed that this was the right choice.

    But after a few minutes, my hands started to protest.

    "This isn¡¯t working¡­" I muttered, glancing down at my fingers, now caked in dirt, raw and stinging with pain.

    My right palm, still healing from previous burns, throbbed as if I were pressing it straight into fire all over again.

    The hole before us was pathetically small. "Doesn¡¯t even look like I¡¯ve been digging for hours¡­"

    Should I stop?

    No.

    I couldn¡¯t.

    So, I kept going, ignoring the pain, alongside the pup, who dug without a moment¡¯s hesitation.

    A few more minutes passed.

    And then, something different happened.

    A red mist began to seep into the hole, swirling like ghostly vapor around the freshly dug earth.

    I froze instantly.

    My heart skipped a beat. "What the¡­?"

    The smoke didn¡¯t dissipate.

    It moved in a single direction¡ªdownward, right where we had been digging.

    A chill ran down my spine.

    Curious, I kept digging.

    And then, my fingers brushed against something solid.

    I pulled away more dirt, and there it was.

    A red stone.

    Dull, yet somehow still glowing under the crimson sky.

    I picked it up carefully, examining it up close.

    "What is this¡­?"

    But before I could even begin to form a theory, I noticed something even stranger.

    The red smoke didn¡¯t disappear.

    It kept flowing into the hole, pointing directly to where we had been digging.

    My mind scrambled to make sense of it.

    I looked at the smoke.

    Then at the stone.

    Then back at the smoke.

    "What¡­?"

    I repeated the process a few times, as if my brain needed extra time to process what was happening.

    And then¡ª

    The stone began to tremble.

    "What?!"

    Before I could react, it slipped from my grasp, sucked back into the hole as if it had a will of its own.

    And then the ground gave way.

    "WHAT THE¡ª?!"

    The hole erupted into a crater, swallowing everything around it.

    And before I could even scream, the pup and I were pulled into the darkness.

    The fall was instant.

    The weight of my body yanked into the void.

    Cold air rushing past my ears.

    The scream tore from my throat before I even realized it.

    "AHHHH!!!"

    The pup let out a sharp howl, his small silhouette tumbling beside me as the world around us became nothing but shadows and wind.

    I reached for something¡ªanything¡ªto hold onto, but there was nothing.

    Nothing but the unknown waiting below.

 The Prince of The Mine

    The air was heavy, thick with dust and sweat, mixed with the sharp scent of damp earth and rusted iron. The mine stretched like an underground labyrinth, its narrow, unstable tunnels held up only by aging wooden beams that creaked ominously with every strike against the rock.

    Lighting was scarce¡ªlimited to oil lanterns fastened to the walls and makeshift torches that cast flickering shadows over the bent bodies of the workers. Each step on the uneven ground stirred up a fine veil of dust, clinging to the miners¡¯ sweat-soaked skin. Exhausted as they were, they never stopped¡ªnot even for a second.

    The steady rhythm of pickaxes striking stone echoed endlessly, almost hypnotic.

    Tink. Tink. Tink.

    It was the sound of a world hidden beneath the earth, where sunlight never reached and time seemed to crawl at a different pace.

    Amidst it all, Lucian worked without pause.

    "One, two... one, two..."

    His movements were precise, repetitive, like a soldier in training.

    He raised his pickaxe in a fluid motion, pulling the weight up to its peak before letting it crash down with all his strength.

    A sharp impact.

    His arm muscles tensed, absorbing the shock.

    A steady breath.

    A swift retreat¡ªthen the next strike followed immediately.

    "One, two... one, two..."

    Lucian never hesitated, never slowed. Each swing carried something beyond mere force¡ªdiscipline, frustration, endurance.

    Around him, other workers carried out their tasks. Some hacked at the rock beside him, their sharp tools breaking apart solid stone. Others sorted through the ore, separating the valuable minerals from the rubble, filling sacks and crates, their arms and faces stained with coal dust like temporary tattoos. And then there were those who carried the heavy loads by hand, for not every section of the mine was privileged with tracks and carts for transport.

    That kind of work left most miners with strong, resilient bodies¡ªsculpted by relentless, repetitive labor.

    Then, amidst the steady clatter of metal striking stone, a deep, raspy voice broke through.

    ¡°The young prince is going all out today¡­¡± commented one of the miners, a broad-armed man with a scruffy beard, hoisting a canvas sack over his shoulder as he gathered loose rocks from the ground.

    Beside him, a thinner man with a crumpled bandana tied around his head let out a short whistle.

    ¡°Hard to believe that six months ago, he barely knew how to hold a pickaxe.¡±

    The first miner raised an eyebrow, chuckling. ¡°Barely knew how to hold it? Jon, I think the booze is messing with your memory¡­¡±

    Jon shrugged, stuffing another rock into his sack.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious! First day here, the kid showed up scowling, grumbling like they¡¯d dragged him straight off a throne.¡±

    ¡°And they did.¡± Everton laughed, dusting off his hands.

    ¡°But even¡± Everton continued. ¡°With that whole ¡®I¡¯m better than you¡¯ attitude, he grabbed that pickaxe like it was a tree branch. Didn¡¯t even seem heavy to him.¡±

    Jon snorted, unconvinced. ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating. Look at him.¡±

    Both men turned their gaze toward Lucian. He hadn¡¯t stopped, hadn¡¯t slowed¡ªcompletely absorbed in his work, as if nothing existed beyond the rock in front of him.

    ¡°Tell me something, Everton¡­¡± Jon nodded toward the boy. ¡°Do you really think that kid is only ten?¡±

    Everton crossed his arms, studying Lucian¡¯s posture.

    The height, the build, the broad shoulders for someone so young¡ªthe muscles more defined than they had any right to be at that age.

    ¡°¡­No,¡± he muttered at last. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say he was at least fourteen. Maybe fifteen. Or even older.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Jon chuckled. ¡°I bet even His Highness Leifred looks at him sometimes and wonders if he skipped a few years raising the boy.¡±

    The two shared a quiet laugh, while Lucian, oblivious to their words, kept swinging his pickaxe¡ªlost in the only part of the day when he didn¡¯t have to think about who he was or who he was supposed to be.

    Hours passed, and the stifling heat inside the mine grew even more oppressive, mingling with the thick scent of sweat and iron dust.

    Then, the sharp sound of firm claps echoed through the tunnel, followed by a voice¡ªhoarse yet authoritative.

    "Alright, good work, everyone!" The voice rang out with strength, rising above the last strikes of the pickaxes.

    The man speaking was Simon Hargrove, the mine¡¯s chief foreman¡ªa veteran of the trade who knew these underground tunnels better than anyone else.

    "You can rest!" he continued, his tone carrying both discipline and respect. "The rest will be handled by those who came in later."

    His sharp gaze swept over the room before he pointed toward a group of workers.

    "Feldar, Hugh, Morren, Brek...!" he called, his voice firm. "Gather the rocks and ore and take them to the Central Depot. I want everything sorted before the next shift. Move it!"

    The men stood up at once, wiping their grime-covered hands on their thick work trousers before starting to collect the loads.

    Meanwhile, most of the workers had already slumped onto makeshift seats or sprawled across the smoother stones, catching their breath.

    Jon, already seated with a metal lunchbox in his lap, popped open the lid and took a quick bite of his meal, humming in quiet satisfaction.

    Then, he frowned and jerked his chin toward something in the distance.

    "Hah¡­ we¡¯ve got a lost cause over there."

    Simon followed Jon¡¯s gaze, and his face immediately twisted in exasperation.

    Lucian hadn¡¯t stopped.

    "Who the hell thinks they can ignore my order?!" he growled, narrowing his eyes.

    Few things irritated him more than someone disregarding the mine''s schedule.

    In Allythe¨®n, and especially in Magnum, work hours were strictly enforced. Breaking them wasn¡¯t just about disobedience¡ªit was a matter of safety. Failing to rest properly could lead to mistakes, and mistakes down here could mean disaster.

    Taking a deep breath, Simon clenched his fists and strode toward the stubborn fool who still refused to stop working.

    But as he got closer¡­

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Simon¡¯s eyes widened in brief surprise.

    It was Lucian, the young prince was completely absorbed in his work, the muscles in his arms and shoulders taut as he swung the pickaxe in perfectly measured movements.

    "One, two¡­ one, two¡­"

    The rhythm never changed. No hesitation. No mistakes.

    Simon paused for a moment, studying the boy more closely.

    The steady stance, the controlled strength behind each strike, the neutral, focused¡ªalmost calm¡ªexpression. It was¡­ strange.

    Six months ago, that kid had been nothing short of a walking disaster.

    Now¡­

    He looked like just another worker.

    ¡°Hmph¡­¡± Simon exhaled, calmer now, and placed a hand on Lucian¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Young prince.¡±

    Lucian stopped instantly but kept the pickaxe raised, his eyes still locked on the stone in front of him.

    ¡°Is it break time already?¡± he asked, his voice steady.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Without a word, Lucian lowered the pickaxe and set it down gently.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even notice¡­¡± He let out a quiet sigh, rolling his shoulders to relax. ¡°Thanks again, Simon.¡±

    Turning toward the foreman, he gave a brief nod of respect before heading toward the resting area.

    ¡°¡­Don¡¯t mention it, young prince,¡± Simon replied automatically.

    Deep down, though, Simon still didn¡¯t like having Lucian there.

    After all, the boy was spoiled, irritable, moody, and a constant source of trouble.

    And worse¡­ He was taller than him.

    On his very first day, the brat had nearly swung a pickaxe at his head in one of his childish tantrums.

    Back then, Simon had sworn it was a mistake to let that kid set foot in the mine.

    But time passed¡­

    And things changed.

    Lucian stopped yelling at the workers. Stopped bothering those who were just there to do their jobs.

    In fact, he barely spoke to anyone. He came and went, often without saying a single word to a soul.

    If people didn¡¯t know that this shift in behavior was thanks to Prince Leifred¡¯s ruthless scolding, they might have believed the boy had been possessed by someone else entirely.

    But Simon knew the truth.

    That kid hadn¡¯t changed. Not really.

    He had simply learned¡ªthrough the harshest way possible¡ªthat the world did not revolve around his arrogance.

    And for Simon, that alone was progress.

    "Haaah¡­" A long, heavy sigh escaped his lips, the air leaving his lungs as if carrying the weight of years of exhaustion.

    He crossed his arms, watching Lucian walk toward the resting area, his expression filled with unspoken thoughts.

    "What exactly is His Highness, Prince Leifred, thinking¡­ sending his own son¡ªa child¡ªto work in a place so humble, so filthy, so dangerous?" he murmured to himself, shaking his head.

    It wasn¡¯t every day that royal blood dirtied their hands with ore dust and hard labor.

    And yet, there he was.

    And for Simon, that raised far more questions than answers.

    "What crime could he have possibly committed?"

 War Chamber

    A few kilometers beyond the Dracknum family''s main mansion, past the fortified gates and towering black stone walls, lay a vast expanse dedicated to the training of their warriors. The clash of blades, the dull thud of boots striking hardened ground, and the relentless shouts of command echoed ceaselessly, like an unending war chant. Yet, within this domain of strength and discipline, there was one place more feared than even the harshest training grounds.

    Amidst the stone and iron structures, guarded by sentinels who knew no hesitation, one building stood apart¡ªthe War Chamber, one of the most heavily protected locations in all Dracknum territory. Hidden beneath well-planned corridors, a network of secret passageways led to the true center of the family''s power¡ªthe underground chamber where fates were decided, where the course of their legacy was shaped.

    The hall was vast and spherical, its domed ceiling upheld by onyx columns adorned with gold and ruby inlays. Flickering enchanted torches cast restless shadows across the walls, where embroidered tapestries wove the bloody history of the Dracknum lineage.

    The seats encircled a colossal, polished darkwood table, its surface streaked with crimson veins that pulsed like living arteries. At its center, carved with impeccable precision, lay the sigil of the Dracknum family.

    The crest was imposing, its gothic contours crafted in black metal, edged with gold, and accented with streaks of fresh-blood red. A massive sword stood vertically at its core, slicing through the emblem from top to bottom, impaling a grotesque demon writhing around the blade. Its gnarled claws desperately clutched at the steel, its empty eyes and gaping mouth frozen in a silent scream¡ªa chilling testament to the only truth known to the enemies of Dracknum: there is no escape from the edge of their blade.

    At the crest¡¯s upper corners, two dragons loomed in a menacing stance¡ªone on the left, black as the void with piercing golden eyes, and the other on the right, lean and cruel, its scales the color of storm-forged steel, its gaze burning with a crimson fire.

    Beneath the sigil, an aged leather banner bore an inscription, its letters weathered by time:

    "Sanguis Solvendus Est. Sanguis Sanguinem Vocat."

    (Blood must be paid. Blood calls to blood.)

    The chamber held over forty seats, though at this moment, only twenty were occupied¡ªby the most influential figures of House Dracknum. Seven chairs belonged to the elite squadron leaders, though four of them sat empty, their occupants each commanding a crucial aspect of the family''s power. Another seven were held by the most revered elders, whose decades of experience and closely guarded secrets carried as much weight as any blade.

    And finally, the seats reserved for the worthy heirs¡ªbearing Dracknum blood was not enough to earn a place at that table. One had to prove it through steel, fire, and sacrifice.

    At the far end of the table, where the pommel of the sword within the family crest pointed, sat the seat of the Patriarch. And it was empty.

    But not for long.

    The silence was shattered by a distinct sound¡ªthe grinding of stone against stone. The wall behind the Patriarch¡¯s chair shifted, sliding open like a concealed doorway. From the shadows, five figures emerged.

    The first was unmistakable¡ªthe Patriarch of House Dracknum. To his left walked C¨¦sar. To his right, Luminus. His eldest sons, both rigid in posture, their gazes sharp as blades.

    Behind them followed two more figures. Israel Dracknum, whose presence, though subdued, carried the aura of a predator patiently watching its prey. And beside him, walking slightly ahead, was the only man in that hall whose authority could rival the Patriarch¡¯s¡ªBaldwin Dracknum, Vice-Patriarch of the family and his elder brother.

    Baldwin was a wall of flesh and bone, standing at an imposing two meters. His presence was one of sheer dominance, his physique refined yet powerful¡ªnot quite a mountain, but formidable enough that respect came naturally in his presence. His golden eyes gleamed under the torchlight, and his short dark hair only intensified the severity of his expression.

    As the five crossed the threshold into the chamber, everyone present rose in acknowledgment.

    "Welcome, Patriarch. Welcome, Lord Baldwin."

    The unified voices reverberated through the subterranean hall.

    The Patriarch and Baldwin responded with a single nod.

    For most, that acknowledgment would have been enough. But three figures did not conceal their dissatisfaction at being overlooked. Luminus, C¨¦sar, and Israel remained still, their expressions composed, yet the tension in their eyes was unmistakable. However, none dared to break the silence.

    Baldwin was the first to move, striding toward his chair, positioned beside the Patriarch¡¯s seat. He sat down with a measured motion, exhaling almost imperceptibly before letting his gaze sweep across the table.

    "I see not all were able to answer the call." His remark carrying the weight of an unspoken accusation.

    Luminus took a seat one chair away from the Patriarch. It remained empty¡ªno one daring to claim it. C¨¦sar sat beside his brother, while Luminus settled in next to their father.

    One of the elders¡ªa man with a white beard and keen eyes¡ªspoke up. "The others are too far away to return in time, Lord Baldwin."

    At last, the Patriarch took his seat. He did not seem hurried, nor troubled. His expression was solemn, unreadable.

    "It does not matter." His words were sharp, cold as tempered steel. "Those present are the only ones who matter at this moment. Let us not waste time dwelling on those who are absent."

    Baldwin leaned forward slightly, fingers interlaced atop the table, his expression unwavering. "Then let¡¯s get straight to the point. As you all know, we recently had individuals bold enough to trespass into Dracknum."

    He paused, giving space for someone to speak. But silence was the only answer he received.

    His golden eyes swept across the faces around the table, each one carrying its own weight¡ªunspoken concerns, suppressed fears. Yet no one dared to break the quiet.

    "Not only did they dare to set foot on our land," Baldwin continued, "but they also interfered in the sacred rite of passage of our heirs."

    The tension in the room became suffocating. This was not just an insult¡ªit was an outrage.

    "And more than that," Baldwin went on, "all of this chaos was caused by just two individuals."

    He let the words linger, striking the room like a hammer against heated steel. "Tell me, how was such an affront allowed to take place within Dracknum?"

    The silence that followed was heavier than before.

    Erika, captain of the forest guard, pressed her lips together, feeling the weight of unseen gazes upon her. No one was looking directly at her, yet she knew¡ªall of them expected her to answer. This had been her responsibility. It was her duty to ensure the security of the Black Forest. And yet, those intruders had slipped past her watch.

    She kept her gaze lowered, unable to meet the eyes of those around her.

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    "How could I have known? Nothing like this has happened in centuries... Why now? Why right after I took command?"

    Her heart pounded against her ribs.

    The response came swift and merciless.

    "This is why positions of importance should not be entrusted to inexperienced youth."

    The voice, laced with disdain, belonged to one of the elders¡ªa man with graying hair and deep receding temples, his age etched into his very posture. The contempt he held for Erika was evident in every syllable.

    "I agree," another elder chimed in. "We should reconsider who holds the title of Captain of the Forest Guard."

    Erika clenched her fists beneath the table but held her tongue.

    Then, a sharp boom resounded through the hall.

    Baldwin¡¯s fist had struck the stone table, the tension in his muscles betraying his contained irritation. His golden eyes, usually cold, now burned with silent fury.

    "I did not ask for these petty squabbles." His voice was a low thunder, rolling through the chamber. "I asked how in the hell this was allowed to happen inside Dracknum."

    This time, it was Luminus who responded, his posture rigid as forged steel. "Vice-Lord, the intruders did not enter through conventional means."

    C¨¦sar nodded and added, "No one in the territory saw them pass. If this had happened in the larger cities, it might have been understandable¡ªbut even the villages and hamlets reported no suspicious movement. They came and went without leaving a trace."

    Baldwin showed no visible reaction, but his dwindling patience was palpable.

    Then, a new voice cut through the chamber¡ªserene, yet carrying a deadly sophistication.

    "When I confronted them, they proved incapable of resisting me or the authority of my blade."

    All eyes turned toward Israel Dracknum. He stood tall, his expression unshaken, as if merely recounting a trivial event.

    "And, as expected, they chose to flee. Not with honor, nor with the slightest trace of dignity, but in the only way cowards know¡ªhiding in the shadows of the unknown."

    Israel interlaced his fingers, his words deliberate, each syllable meticulously pronounced.

    "Faced with the abyss of defeat, they resorted to a disgraceful tactic. They tore through the veil of reality and escaped through a portal¡ªa method as crude as it is contemptible."

    His voice was a blade, dripping with irony and disdain. "So brave, so daring¡­ until they felt the cold of steel and the weight of their own choices."

    A brief pause, then the final stroke.

    Israel remained unshaken, his voice flowing like a river¡ªcalm, yet impossibly deep. "And in the end, like cornered rats, they scurried back to whatever holes they came from."

    The silence that followed did not last long.

    A voice, sharp as a dagger, cut through it.

    "Then you failed." Thomas¡¯s words carried the weight of a blade sinking into flesh. "Not only did you fail to capture them, but you also failed to uncover their true intentions?"

    Under the flickering torchlight, Israel¡¯s golden eyes gleamed. He did not hesitate. Straightening his posture, he inclined his head slightly toward the Patriarch.

    "I offer my apologies for this shortcoming, my lord. However, not all is lost."

    He let the tension hang for a moment before continuing. "For them to teleport directly into the heart of our territory, they would have required¡­ inside help."

    The captain of the Red Squadron¡ªa man of commanding presence, bald, his gaze sharp and unrelenting¡ªspoke next. One of his eyes burned red like embers, the other gleamed gold like molten metal.

    "Are you suggesting there is a traitor among us?" His tone was controlled, but the weight of his words was undeniable.

    Israel did not falter. "I am not suggesting, Captain Charles. I am stating it as fact."

    A brief silence, heavy as a sword raised before the final blow. "And I have already captured them."

    Eyes widened in restrained shock, but no one dared to interrupt.

    "However, upon realizing their plans had failed, the invaders triggered an anomaly within one of the breaches."

    Israel¡¯s tone remained steady, unwavering. "And as a result¡­ Alexander fell into the Demon Forest."

    The explosion was immediate.

    Unlike the others, C¨¦sar did not mask his reaction. His shock was raw, unrestrained. He shot to his feet, his hands slamming against the table with a resounding boom.

    "That wasn¡¯t in the report!"

    His eyes locked onto Israel, demanding answers¡ªbut it was Luminus who responded.

    "Because it is a delicate matter."

    "So you knew, Luminus?" The fury in C¨¦sar¡¯s voice was palpable.

    In a swift motion, he closed the distance, seizing Luminus by the collar and yanking him forward.

    "And yet you didn¡¯t tell me?!"

    Luminus did not react immediately. His gaze met C¨¦sar¡¯s, calm¡ªinfuriatingly so.

    "Let go of me, C¨¦sar. He is my brother too." His voice was measured, controlled, but his eyes told a different story. Beneath the surface, a fire burned¡ªa silent fury, restrained yet undeniable. C¨¦sar could feel it. And yet, he did not loosen his grip.

    Until a voice, cold and absolute, cut through the air like a blade.

    "Enough."

    The Patriarch did not need to raise his tone. His authority was unquestionable.

    C¨¦sar hesitated, his fingers twitching¡ªbut after a brief pause, he released Luminus with a sharp, frustrated motion, turning his gaze away to suppress his anger.

    "Israel, continue."

    Thomas¡¯s patience had run thin. He would tolerate no more distractions.

    Adjusting his cloak, Israel resumed his explanation.

    "As I was saying, aside from Alexander, there were no casualties. However, we have been unable to reopen the portal or locate him. That said, we are certain he is alive¡ªthe restriction remains intact."

    The weight of those words settled over the chamber like a thick fog. Silence threatened to suffocate the room¡ªuntil Erika, who had remained quiet for far too long, finally spoke.

    "Patriarch, we cannot leave the seal damaged any longer. We must restore it immediately, or else¡­"

    She stopped. She couldn¡¯t finish. Whatever came next was a fear no one wished to name.

    But C¨¦sar would not stand for it.

    "How dare you?!" His voice exploded through the hall. "Even knowing that Ale¡ª"

    "Silence."

    The Patriarch¡¯s intervention was unhurried, but his authority was absolute. C¨¦sar froze in place.

    "But, Fa¡ª"

    "C¨¦sar, do not make me repeat myself."

    Thomas turned to his son, his gaze as sharp as a drawn blade. The weight of it sent a chill down C¨¦sar¡¯s spine. Yet he stood firm, defiant¡ªuntil at last, he relented, dropping back into his seat, his jaw clenched in frustration.

    The Patriarch swept his gaze across the chamber.

    "For years, we have grown complacent. This invasion is proof of that."

    Then, his decree fell, heavy and unwavering.

    "Reinforce the seals in the Black Forest. Double security across the territory."

    C¨¦sar clenched his fists at those words but held his tongue.

    "Make it known to the world¡ªno one is to lay a hand on those two individuals. Dracknum¡¯s blades are drawn against them."

    The threat was unmistakable.

    And so, the hours stretched on. The council deliberated over matters of grave importance¡ªdefensive strategies, military maneuvers, and silent agreements made in the shadows.

    The elders pressed for the preservation of tradition, while the squadron captains demanded more aggressive measures against potential threats beyond their borders.

    Luminus urged for increased surveillance over allies and subordinates, fearing that the infiltration ran deeper than they had anticipated. C¨¦sar, unwavering, insisted that Alexander had to be rescued before it was too late, but his demands fell on deaf ears.

    Israel, ever calculated, proposed a complete lockdown of the underground routes, while the elders fiercely debated the risks such a measure would pose.

    "The world must understand¡ªDracknum does not tolerate defiance."

    Baldwin¡¯s deep voice echoed through the chamber, his words carrying the weight of inevitability.

    Tension thickened, each faction defending its stance with fervor¡ªuntil Thomas raised a hand. The room fell silent instantly.

    "You all know what must be done."

    Without another word, he stood, the sheer weight of his presence suffocating. His gaze, sharp as a blade, swept over the council before he turned to leave.

    "Yes, Patriarch!" The resounding response rang with loyalty and unshaken resolve.

    The meeting had ended, but the war¡­ had only just begun.

    As Thomas walked away, a knowing smirk ghosted across his lips, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of curiosity and amusement.

    "So, the Threshold truly exists, huh?"

    And with those words, he vanished into the shadows of the corridor.

 Threshold

    The War Room was silent now, its torches crackling softly against the weight of all that had been discussed. The secret chamber had already been sealed, but beyond its hidden walls, Thomas Dracknum walked slowly toward the exit, his footsteps echoing in steady rhythm through the vast hall of black stone.

    There was much to be done. Reporting the events to the royal family was only one of his duties. He also needed to review the reports on movements in the neighboring territories, reorganize the border patrols, and, above all, deal with the growing distrust within Dracknum itself. The suspicion of a traitor was eating away at the family¡¯s foundation, like rust corroding an old blade.

    And yet, a faint smile lingered on his lips¡ªsubtle, but present. His mind wandered, lost in intricate thoughts.

    "You never cease to surprise me, little Thomas."

    The voice, laced with amusement and familiarity, came from behind. Baldwin Dracknum was following him, his steps firm but unhurried. His tone was far lighter than it had been in the meeting, and there was even a playful glint in his golden eyes.

    Thomas let out a short sigh¡ªnot of annoyance, but something close to it¡ªand replied without even needing to look back:

    "In all of Asgardia, you are probably the only one bold enough to call me ¡®little.¡¯"

    "Oh, but you are my little brother, aren¡¯t you?" Baldwin shot back with a quiet laugh. "Besides, you miscounted¡­ you forgot¡ª"

    He stopped abruptly. The words died on his lips as if he had tripped over them. The playful spark in his eyes vanished, and Thomas stopped as well.

    A heavy silence settled between them.

    Thomas¡¯s expression hardened¡ªcold as freshly forged steel.

    Baldwin averted his gaze for a brief moment. The name he had nearly spoken¡­ it was not to be said. Not here. Not now.

    Drawing a deep breath, Baldwin composed himself and resumed, his tone more serious this time:

    "But tell me, what was it that frightened you?"

    Thomas frowned, not understanding at first.

    Baldwin gave a slight nod toward his hands.

    Only then did Thomas realize¡ªhis fists were clenched, and his palms were damp with sweat.

    "Frightened?" Thomas repeated, as if the word itself were an insult.

    "Yes." Baldwin smirked. "Your eyes remain unshaken, but your hands¡­ your hands betray your thoughts, brother."

    Thomas didn¡¯t answer right away. His gaze drifted into the dim corridor, recalling the exact moment it had happened.

    <hr>

    The meeting was unfolding as expected. Discussions on territorial security and the hunt for traitors were conducted with firm yet measured voices. The Dracknum crest, carved into the center of the circular table, seemed to watch over those present¡ªan unyielding symbol of the lineage¡¯s authority.

    And then, Thomas heard it.

    A voice slithered through the darkness of the hall like a serpent, laced with irony and malice. It came from none of those present. It came from nowhere in this world.

    "Thadeus¡­ Thadeus, can you hear me?"

    Thomas didn¡¯t move a muscle. But inside, a cold shadow swept through his mind. His blood ran icy. His heart stuttered for the briefest of moments before regaining its steady rhythm.

    He would recognize that voice anywhere.

    Loki.

    ¡®Loki, why do you invade my mind?¡¯

    His lips never moved. His posture remained pristine. Outwardly, nothing betrayed the silent duel already unfolding within his thoughts.

    "Let¡¯s just say¡­ something caught my attention. And I thought it might interest you."

    Thomas remained impassive. He knew the guardian beast loved to cast its nets, waiting patiently for prey to take the bait.

    Silence.

    "Oh, come now, don¡¯t be such a spoilsport, Thadeus." Loki¡¯s voice oozed amusement, but there was something else¡ªsomething almost¡­ serious, lurking beneath the playfulness. "It¡¯s about your youngest one¡­ the one who crossed the rift."

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    Thomas¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver, but his mind was already racing.

    ¡®What do you know?¡¯

    A laugh¡ªsmooth and sharp as a freshly honed blade¡ªrang through his mind.

    "Far more than you think you do."

    A vein in Thomas¡¯s temple throbbed.

    ¡®I don¡¯t have time for your games, Loki.¡¯

    "Oh, of course, of course¡­ The great Thomas Dracknum, always busy, always serious."

    A pause. Loki reveled in the suspense.

    The silence hung heavy, like a blade suspended in the air.

    "But perhaps this will interest you: He¡­ is not in the Black Forest."

    Thomas¡¯s mind locked in place, frozen with irritation. But outwardly, he was a statue of pure control. Not even an eyebrow twitched.

    And yet, another pulse flickered at his temple.

    That was all it took for Loki to burst into laughter.

    "Hahahaha!"

    The sound echoed through his mind like mocking thunder. But then¡ªsomething shifted. The sarcasm faded, replaced by something heavier, something real.

    "But don¡¯t worry¡­ he¡¯s not in the Demon Forest either."

    And for the first time in a long while, Thomas Dracknum felt a genuine chill.

    Loki let the silence stretch, dramatic as ever.

    "Hey, Thadeus¡­ have you ever heard of the Threshold?"

    Thomas remained silent. He knew the Trickster God loved to weave his victims into a web of words before handing them any real truth.

    Loki sighed, exaggeratedly.

    "You¡¯re lucky I¡¯m in a good mood." His voice took on a mock-wounded tone, as if offended by Thomas¡¯s continued silence. "The Threshold¡­ is the space between the Demon Forest and the Black Forest. A rift, a passage, a place that both exists and does not exist at the same time¡­ an intersection between dimensions."

    The explanation made Thomas¡¯s mind reel. That wasn¡¯t in Dracknum¡¯s records. Or at least, not officially.

    ¡®And Alexander¡­ is he in this so-called Threshold?¡¯

    Loki chuckled again, this time lower, as if thoroughly entertained.

    "Quite possibly¡­ Who knows, he might just find him there."

    Thomas¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡®Him?¡¯

    Loki let out a dramatic sigh, exasperated, as if realizing he had said too much.

    "Well, well, would you look at that¡ªI actually managed to catch your attention, didn¡¯t I?"

    Thomas¡¯s silence was answer enough.

    "Ah, but I think I¡¯ve said too much for one day. I¡¯ll be expecting your next visit, Thadeus."

    And with that, Loki¡¯s presence dissipated like smoke in the wind.

    But the unease he left behind¡­ that remained.

    <hr>

    The wind howled around me, roaring in my ears as I plummeted at a terrifying speed.

    The initial shock of the fall had caught me off guard, and now, with gravity mercilessly dragging me toward the unknown, I fought to regain control of the situation.

    Dust and tiny fragments of earth stung my skin, making it nearly impossible to keep my eyes open. Still, I forced my vision through the swirling haze of debris.

    My heart pounded violently in my chest when I finally saw it¡ªthe wolf pup, flailing midair, tumbling helplessly within my reach.

    With a desperate lunge, I stretched out my arms and caught it, pulling the small creature close, shielding it in a protective embrace.

    "Hang on!" I muttered instinctively, as if it could actually understand me.

    Now that it was safe in my arms, I tried to take in my surroundings. But all I could see was darkness and rock.

    The walls around me were jagged, covered in cracks and protrusions, but none were close enough to grab onto. Streams of water trickled downward along the uneven stone, disappearing into the depths below.

    And beneath me? Only endless emptiness. The bottom remained unseen.

    A sickening sensation twisted in my gut as the fall dragged on with no end in sight.

    "What the hell¡­?!" My voice was swallowed by the abyss. "How deep does this thing go?!"

    I held my breath, forcing myself to stay calm. If I counted the seconds, I might get an idea of how far I¡¯d fallen. But as the minutes stretched on and the ground refused to appear, an uneasy realization began to creep in.

    "Is this¡­ a bottomless pit?" I whispered. "No, that¡¯s ridiculous. Bottomless pits don¡¯t exist."

    ¡°But¡ª¡± A chill ran down my spine. I had read about something like this before. "Wait¡­"

    According to ancient legends, there was only one true bottomless pit.

    "But it¡¯s supposed to be in Yggdrasill¡­" I murmured, struggling to recall everything I knew about the old elven nation.

    My thoughts spun, trying to make sense of it all. But before I could reach any solid conclusion, something caught my eye.

    A faint glimmer. Something that shouldn¡¯t be there.

    I turned my head, eyes widening. There¡ªwater, running down the walls of the ravine.

    "Huh?"

    It streamed steadily, weaving through the cracks in the rock. Not a mere trickle, but not a rushing torrent either.

    I blinked, trying to be sure of what I was seeing.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    I waited. Watching in silence, counting the seconds as I fell.

    Minutes passed.

    And then¡ªthere it was again. The same stream of water appeared in my line of sight.

    My stomach dropped.

    "Didn¡¯t I just see that?"

    An unsettling realization hit me. I had been falling for far too long. My mind worked fast, piecing it together.

    If I was seeing the same stream of water more than once, that meant¡ª

    "Shit. I¡¯m in a loop!"

 Infinite Fall

    "Shit. I''m stuck in a loop!"

    The realization crashed through my mind like thunder, but instead of panicking, a weary sigh escaped my lips.

    "Haaah..."

    My body kept falling, the darkness around me swirling in an endless vortex. And yet, for some reason, I wasn¡¯t surprised. No shock, no adrenaline rush, no desperation¡ªnone of that came.

    Just an overwhelming exhaustion, as if the weight of the past few weeks had finally caught up to me.

    "Lucky guy, huh?" I muttered to no one in particular, my words dripping with sarcasm.

    My life had been a complete mess for months, and now... this.

    Dead. Revived. Maybe reincarnated? Summoned?

    "Whatever..."

    Was my body restored, returning to its original form in this world? Recreated from scratch?

    Every time I tried to make sense of it, more questions surfaced.

    And as if that wasn¡¯t enough¡­

    "After everything was finally done. Just when I thought I¡¯d get a moment of rest..."

    I closed my eyes for a moment, recalling the day. A nice breakfast. A tense but peaceful trip.

    Then¡­ chaos.

    Thrown into a forest, staring death in the face more times than I could count. Thankfully, I was taken in by a wolf pack. Fought off a group of enraged bears, probably because of the blood moon¡¯s influence¡ªor maybe because I¡¯d killed one of them and was now wearing its pelt.

    ''Honestly, I¡¯d do the same,¡¯ I thought, sighing again.

    Not to mention, I survived an attack from a level five beast. And as if that wasn¡¯t enough, I got caught up in a fight between monsters so powerful I couldn¡¯t even begin to measure their strength.

    And now?

    Now, I was falling endlessly, trapped in an infinite loop, lost in some void of another dimension.

    "Most of that happened in a single day," I muttered, letting out a humorless chuckle.

    I exhaled slowly, my chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. My heart was calm, but my mind was still spinning from sheer exhaustion.

    That¡¯s when I looked down at the wolf pup in my arms.

    "Hey, little guy¡­" I started, but then paused. He was asleep.

    My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Seriously?"

    Of all the things that could have shocked me today, a pup sleeping in the middle of an infinite fall was the last one I expected.

    I studied him more closely. His tiny muscles were completely relaxed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He shifted slightly, snuggling closer into my arms as if I were a warm, comfortable blanket.

    "This little guy can sleep anywhere, huh?"

    I smiled before I even realized it. Because, for some reason¡­ at that moment, he felt like the only stable thing in all this madness.

    I watched him for a few more seconds, feeling the warmth of his small body pressed against mine. He was sleeping so deeply, completely oblivious to the fact that we were falling endlessly into the unknown.

    "He¡¯s got the right idea," I murmured. "No point in worrying about things I can¡¯t control."

    I sighed.

    The only light came from above, the place I¡¯d fallen from. It was faint, barely there, but still¡­ it was something.

    And then, like a spark, an idea hit me.

    "Light¡­ That¡¯s it!"

    My eyes widened.

    If I could create light, maybe I could see more of this place. Maybe, just maybe, I¡¯d find a way out.

    I activated the ring on my finger and searched through the stored spells, looking for the one that could help me right now.

    ¡ª Light.

    The simplest magic of the light element. It created a small luminous orb¡ªnot powerful enough to replace a high-powered flashlight, but just enough for my current situation.

    But even though it was the easiest spell in the light element, that didn¡¯t mean it was easy to learn.

    I took a deep breath and focused, feeling the mana around me.

    Unlike other types of magic, casting light required me to keep my eyes open.

    It was a prerequisite for most spells of this element, and that made things a whole lot harder.

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    Filtering a specific element was already difficult, but doing it while plummeting at high speed, with the wind slashing against my skin and gravity making every movement imprecise? That was damn near impossible.

    I adjusted the pup, securing him under my left arm to free up my right hand. Then, I focused on it.

    Gradually, my vision blurred, and for the first time, I started to see the mana particles around me.

    Red¡ªFire.

    Green¡ªWind.

    Bluish¡ªWater.

    Brownish¡ªEarth.

    But¡­ no white or golden ones. No light.

    "Why can''t I sense it?" My brow furrowed. Maybe it was because of my low affinity with the element.

    Still, I kept trying. Forcing myself to search.

    Minutes passed. Ten. Twenty.

    My eyes burned from the strain, and then¡ªfinally¡ªI saw it. A single white-yellow speck.

    "Finally."

    I locked onto it instantly, pulling it toward my hand. The moment it moved, others began to appear, responding to the call. They were shy, hesitant¡­ but they were there.

    I waited until a decent amount of light particles had gathered around my palm. Then, without hesitation, I tried activating the spell.

    ¡ª "Light." ¡ª

    Nothing.

    I sighed. Not surprising.

    Tried again. ¡ª "Light." ¡ª

    Still nothing.

    I bit my lip and insisted. ¡ª "Light." ¡ª

    This time¡­ something happened. A flicker. Small, insignificant. But something.

    "At least that''s a start."

    I kept at it. Five tries, ten tries, fifteen, twenty. My eyes burned, my head throbbed, sweat dripped down my forehead¡ªbut I didn¡¯t stop.

    Fifty attempts later¡­

    ¡ª "Light." ¡ª

    This time, it worked.

    A small golden orb flickered to life in my palm, weak and trembling, like a candle¡¯s flame struggling against the wind¡­ But still, it was light.

    My light.

    Its glow was pale, unsteady, wavering as if it could vanish at any moment. But I wouldn¡¯t let that happen.

    I curled my fingers around the sphere, focusing on stabilizing its structure, feeding it a steady flow of mana. Slowly, it grew.

    Soft crackling sounds echoed as the luminous energy gained consistency. Its glow, once faint, expanded, becoming larger than my own palm.

    Beside me, the wolf pup stirred, bothered by the sudden brightness. With a small movement, he burrowed his head into the fabric of my cloak, shielding his face from the light.

    I let out a small smile. "Sorry, little guy¡­ but I need to get us out of here."

    Now that my light source was stable, I had to find a way to use it without having to hold it directly.

    There was a problem, though¡ªbasic-level spells required constant contact with the caster to remain active. If I let go of the orb, it would fade within seconds.

    But I already had a solution in mind.

    Even though light magic needed a continuous flow of mana, it still took a few seconds before disappearing completely.

    And a few seconds were all I needed.

    I took a deep breath and shifted my focus to another element. This time, wind.

    The green particles were much easier to sense. Unlike light, which slipped through my grasp like water through my fingers, wind always answered my call.

    I gathered a significant amount of particles, concentrating them at the base of the glowing sphere.

    Holding the pup securely against my chest with my left arm, I made a swift motion and hurled the sphere toward the wall.

    ¡ª "Breeze!" ¡ª

    The wind erupted around the sphere, propelling it forward.

    It cut through the air like a golden projectile, illuminating its own path as it traveled toward the stream of water trickling down the ravine wall.

    Five seconds.

    That was all it would last.

    But it was enough.

    For a brief moment, a flicker of red glowed on the stone.

    Letters. Engraved into the wall, marked beside the flowing water.

    "My instincts never fail me." A satisfied smile curled my lips.

    Wasting no time, I repeated the process.

    ¡ª "Light." ¡ª A new sphere was born in my hand.

    ¡ª "Breeze." ¡ª

    Once again, the sphere shot forward, tracing a golden arc through the void, momentarily illuminating the jagged contours of the ravine. My eyes locked onto the wall, fixed on those enigmatic markings.

    This time, I wouldn¡¯t miss a single detail.

    As the sphere drew closer, the crimson etchings on the rock became clearer. The shape of the letters, the way they were carved¡­

    "Is this ancient Jotundrim?" I murmured, frowning.

    The markings resembled the old language of the giants.

    The giants¡­ one of the ancestral races, extinct for millennia, lost to the depths of history¡ªjust like the Tritons, Onis, Vanirs, Moon Elves, and so many others that once walked the land.

    Legendary beings, feared for their raw strength and colossal size.

    According to the most common accounts, they were barbarians¡ªdevoid of the intelligence and refinement that other races had developed over the ages. That, the legends say, was the reason for the downfall of the giants'' era.

    By those same tales, deceiving a giant was supposedly easier than tricking a child. You could take their women right before their eyes and still convince them it was just a massage or some other ridiculous excuse.

    ¡®But¡­ were the legends really true? Was it not an exaggeration to believe that an adult could be more foolish than a newborn?¡¯

    The mere fact that these inscriptions were here, in some unknown place lost to time, raised more questions than answers.

    ¡®How old is this place?¡¯ The thought sent a chill down my spine.

    If the giants fell over a thousand years ago¡­ then why the hell was their writing still here?

    ¡®Does it even matter? Thinking about it won¡¯t save me.¡¯

    I couldn¡¯t waste time questioning things now. I repeated the process.

    The words appeared again, and after several more attempts, adjusting the angle of the sphere, I finally read them in full.

    "Brute, brute¡­ bye, bye.

    Light, light¡­ hi, hi.

    Punch, punch¡­ no, no.

    Loose, loose¡­ gone, gone."

    I frowned. "What the¡­?" The reading was so absurd it almost made me laugh.  "A riddle?" I muttered, narrowing my eyes.

    I read the words again. Then again. And again.

    Still, nothing made sense.

    "Seriously¡­ is this some kind of joke?"

    I had been falling endlessly for who knows how long, trapped in a loop, and now I had stumbled upon ancient inscriptions throwing a riddle at me?

    This place was testing my patience.

    I ran my tongue over my dry lips, my gaze shifting between the words and the stream of water flowing beside them. What did this mean?

    I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

    Maybe there was a pattern.

    Maybe it was simpler than it seemed.

    The real question now was¡­ what was my next move?

 The Hidden Answer

    "Brute, brute¡­ bye, bye.

    Light, light¡­ hi, hi.

    Punch, punch¡­ no, no.

    Loose, loose¡­ gone, gone."

    I stared at those words for long seconds, my facial muscles tightening in sheer frustration.

    "Now I understand why they say the giants were a lost cause," I muttered, grinding my teeth.

    What kind of nonsense riddle was this?!

    My mind was racing, searching for patterns, connections¡ªanything that could help me make sense of what the hell those words meant.

    "Rough, rough¡­ bye, bye? Loose, loose¡­ gone, gone?" None of it added up. What did "rough" mean? What did it mean to be "loose"? What exactly was this riddle trying to tell me?

    Countless questions popped up in my mind like thorns, each one more confusing than the last. A headache started to pulse at my temples, the result of both mental strain and the ridiculous amount of time I''d been stuck in this endless loop of madness.

    And then¡­

    "Woof." The wolf pup stirred in my arms, letting out a small, lazy sound, stretching as if nothing unusual was happening.

    My eyebrow twitched. "Sleeping Beauty finally decides to wake up, huh?" Irritation dripped from my voice. I needed to vent my frustration somehow¡ªand right now, the pup was the only viable target.

    He lifted his head, blinking slowly at me before letting out a second bark, short and sharp.

    If I had to translate, it sounded something like "Not my fault you didn¡¯t sleep."

    I took a deep breath, feeling my patience slip away.

    "You know what¡­ you¡¯re right." My eyes unfocused slightly. "I miss being that carefree. Wish I could go back to being so¡­"

    I stopped. My mind froze for a moment.

    And then¡ªclick.

    "Carefree." My eyes widened. "Non-Newtonian fluids!" The answer had been right in front of me all along.

    A shiver ran down my spine. How had I not seen it sooner?! The words in the riddle were describing the behavior of a non-Newtonian fluid.

    "I¡¯ll never complain about Carlos¡¯ boring lectures again," I murmured, nearly laughing in disbelief.

    It finally made sense. The lines "Rough, rough¡­ bye, bye" and "Punch, punch¡­ no, no" meant that if I applied too much force, I¡¯d be repelled.

    Meanwhile, "Light, light¡­ hi, hi" and "Loose, loose¡­ gone, gone" indicated that if I moved gently, I¡¯d sink.

    "Depending on the force applied, the reaction changes!" This wasn¡¯t a meaningless riddle¡ªit was a warning. "But a warning about what?"

    I glanced around, searching for anything¡ªanything¡ªthat might fit within this revelation. But there was nothing here for me to "sink" into. The liquid dripping down the wall was too far away, and even if I reached it, it was too shallow for anything to submerge. The walls, though worn down, were identical¡ªno ledges, no differences that could explain the riddle.

    What the hell was I missing? The only thing truly moving here¡­ was me. Me and the wolf pup, tumbling through this endless void, trapped in an infinite fall.

    I closed my eyes for a moment. "Alexander, breathe in¡­ breathe out¡­ breathe in¡­ breathe out¡­" I murmured to myself, forcing my mind to settle, to organize my thoughts.

    Amidst the chaos, I focused on controlling my breathing, and without even realizing it, the wolf pup unconsciously mirrored me.

    "Woof, woof."

    My attention snapped back to him. The sound was soft but¡­ oddly rhythmic.

    My brow furrowed. "Skipping the terms and going straight to the concepts." I muttered, barely aware I was speaking.

    And then¡ªmy eyes widened. Those were the exact words I had said to White Wolf. My mind stalled for a second.

    I glanced at the pup, who blinked at me with innocent eyes.

    ¡®I must be imagining things¡¯ I shook my head, trying to clear away the scattered thoughts. But no matter how absurd the idea seemed, something about it made sense.

    The answer wasn¡¯t in the words themselves¡ªit was in the concept behind them. I wasn¡¯t supposed to focus on what was written literally, but rather on what the message was trying to teach me.

    "I know what to do." Without hesitation, I adjusted my breathing again.

    This time, slower.

    Calmer.

    The pup followed my lead once more, his small chest rising and falling in sync with mine.

    I closed my eyes.

    I let every muscle in my body relax completely.

    I emptied my mind.

    I let go of fear, of tension.

    And for the first time since this endless fall began¡­

    I surrendered to the flow of the unknown.

    <hr>

    My consciousness was an ocean of fog.

    The void around me seemed to dissolve, the endless fall replaced by a strange sensation¡­ as if I were being pulled. My mind wavered between reality and the unknown, a heavy weight pressing against my head, making it nearly impossible to think clearly.

    And then, mechanical voices began to echo in the darkness.

    ¡ª "Protokollr virkr."

    ¡ª "Jaktar d¨®marinn byrjar¡­"

    A sharp ringing shot through my mind. My brow furrowed, my body tensing instinctively.

    ¡®What¡­?¡¯ The words hammered into my skull, reverberating in the depths of my mind, yet they made no sense.

    ¡ª "Villr. Villr."

    The metallic voices layered over one another, as if dozens were speaking at once.

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    My chest rose and fell heavily. My eyelids fluttered, but they were still too heavy to fully open.

    ¡ª "Mistak. Erfingi ¨®h?fur."

    ¡®Erfingi¡­?¡¯ That word¡­ it felt familiar.

    My heart skipped a beat. I knew this language. I¡¯d seen it before.

    It was Jotundrim.

    ¡ª "Endurstilla m?likvarea¡­"

    A shiver crawled down my spine, something was wrong. I tried to move my fingers, feeling an odd numbness spreading through my muscles.

    ¡®What was happening?¡¯

    ¡ª "Greina aest?eur¡­"

    The voices were getting louder. Closer.

    I tried opening my eyes again, but all I could see was a pale glow¡­ and shadows flickering around me.

    ¡ª "Leita ae valkostum¡­"

    ¡®What the hell is happening¡­?!¡¯

    My breathing quickened. The discomfort in my chest grew sharper as the voices continued, more intense, more piercing.

    ¡ª "¨²rvinnsla¡­"

    A buzz sliced through my head, like something was being driven into my skull.

    No¡­ it wasn¡¯t just a sound. It was a presence. Something was here, something was watching me.

    ¡ª "Engir valkostir tilt?kir."

    My breath hitched.

    The voices stopped. And then, a final phrase echoed¡ªheavy, absolute.

    ¡ª "Virkja Verndara."

    A blinding light consumed my vision.

    And I finally woke up.

    My mind was still hazy, my senses scrambled, as if I¡¯d been ripped from a deep sleep without warning. Everything around me felt warped, muted, unreal.

    But then, I saw it, something was there. Too close, a tall, shadowed figure loomed before me, watching.

    "HAAAA!" Panic took over my body before I could even think.

    Instinctively, a burst of wind erupted around me. The current flung me backward, pushing me away from that thing. My feet hit the ground, skidding against the smooth surface. My breath came in ragged gasps, my muscles coiled tight.

    But¡­ it didn¡¯t retreat. The figure moved again, closing the distance without hesitation.

    This time, I stayed still.

    I watched.

    And it watched me.

    It circled around me, its body gliding unnaturally smoothly, without making a single sound. It was tall. Thin. Completely black, covered in golden markings¡ªinscriptions or pulsating circuits. Its four limbs were linked by mechanical joints, moving with absolute precision.

    A machine?

    A robot?

    ¡®You¡¯ve got to be kidding me¡­¡¯ My mind struggled to process everything, but one thing unsettled me more than anything else.

    It was staring at me.

    Observing me.

    And¡­ The worst of all.  It had no face.

    A shiver ran down my spine. ¡®I hate mannequins¡­¡¯

    The mechanical figure halted abruptly, as if reaching a conclusion.

    And then, it spoke. ¡ª "Greining erfingja¡­" ¡ª A metallic, low, distorted voice echoed through the space.

    ¡®What the hell is it saying¡­?!¡¯

    "Reikna¡­"

    The machine tilted its head¡ªor what should have been a head¡ªslightly to the side, as if analyzing something invisible to the naked eye.

    "Fr¨¢vik ¨ª viebr?geum¡­ ¨®v?nt hegeun¡­"

    My fists clenched. I didn¡¯t know whether to run or try to figure out what the hell was happening.

    "Samanbureur vie fyrri skr¨¢r¡­"

    The machine lifted one hand.

    I tensed immediately.

    "¨®tekkt breyta uppg?tvae¡­ erfingi synir fr¨¢vik¡­"

    I swallowed hard.

    ¡®Erfingi¡­ it¡¯s talking about me?!¡¯

    It began moving again¡ªthis time slower, more deliberate.

    I felt like I was being studied.

    "Metur vieeigandi r¨¢estafanir¡­"

    My eyes widened.

    ¡®Wait¡­ ¡®appropriate measures¡¯?!¡¯

    The machine tilted its head slightly toward me.

    ¡ª "¨¢kveeie¡­ HALDA ¨¢FRAM."

    The metallic voice reverberated through the space.

    And then¡ªit lunged. Fast. Precise.

    Before I could even think about reacting, I felt something cold press against my forehead.

    ¡ª SHNK! ¡ª

    Something thin and sharp pierced my skin.

    But there was no pain. No blood.

    My breath hitched in my throat. My muscles locked up.

    It was so fast¡­ so precise¡­

    If I hadn¡¯t seen it, I wouldn¡¯t have even felt it.

    The machine withdrew immediately, its movements calculated, smooth¡ªlike an automaton untouched by any external force.

    My hands shot to my forehead, my fingers probing the spot where it had touched me.

    Nothing. No wound. No mark. No strange sensation.

    I stared at the machine, my heart still hammering against my chest.

    "..."

    I didn¡¯t dare move.

    It remained still for a long, unsettling moment. Then, its body trembled slightly, as if adjusting itself. It made a series of strange motions¡ªrolling its wrists, tilting its head from side to side, its limbs contorting at almost impossible angles.

    And then¡­

    "Initializing¡­ Language Module activated."

    My expression shifted entirely.

    ¡®I understood that.¡¯

    This time, I understood what it said. The once-distorted metallic sound now made perfect sense in my mind.

    ¡®But how?!¡¯

    Before I could process it, the machine trembled again.

    "Module Two activated¡­ Executing the will of Abel Dracknum."

    ¡®Abel Dracknum?!¡¯

    The shock barely had time to settle before the machine''s body began to reshape itself.

    Its limbs contracted, its metallic frame folding and remolding as if it were living clay.

    From its smooth, featureless face, shapes began to emerge¡ªlines carving themselves out as if something was forcing its appearance to take form from nothing.

    Its eyes¡ªonce nonexistent¡ªbegan to take shape, gaining depth, glowing with an intense golden hue. Its previously black and cold surface gained texture, warmth¡­ color. Human skin¡ªunnaturally pale.

    From within its joints, tissues began to emerge, weaving themselves into its form. Clothes materialized out of thin air, wrapping around its torso and arms.

    Hair began to sprout from its scalp, growing slowly¡ªwhite as snow. A short, well-groomed beard formed along its chin and jaw, seamlessly blending into its newly formed face.

    And when the transformation was complete¡­ The machine was no longer a machine. It looked like¡­ a man.

    Tall. Very tall. Commanding. His posture unwavering. His golden eyes glowed faintly as they scanned me from head to toe.

    He wore deep blue garments with black and silver accents¡ªclothing reminiscent of the ceremonial robes of noble figures or the grand warriors of centuries past.

    Then, he sighed.

    He sighed, as if he had lungs. As if he were truly alive. And then, he spoke. "Never thought that after all these years, the first one to appear would be so¡­"

    His eyes traced over me.

    The tattered cloak. The torn clothes. the slightly scorched right hand. The unkempt, dirty hair. The hollow eyes, sunken with exhaustion.

    "So¡­ so pitiful." There was a restrained disdain in his tone. "But well, it is what it is."

    He lifted his shoulders slightly, as if resigning himself to an inevitable fate. "At least you¡¯re a descendant. Better than nothing."

    My heart skipped a beat. ¡®He¡­ he knows who I am?¡¯

    Before I could react, he finally looked me directly in the eyes. A faint smile¡ªalmost ironic¡ªcurved at the edges of his lips.

    "Welcome, descendant. Son of Dracknum."

 Blood Mausoleum

    "Welcome, descendant. Son of Dracknum."

    The man¡¯s voice echoed through the silence. The corner of his lips curled into an ironic smile, as if mocking my presence¡ªor perhaps my very existence.

    "It is a¡ª"

    "Who, not what the hell are you?!" I interrupted without thinking, my breathing heavy, my heart pounding in my chest.

    "Where are we?! How do I get back?! Is this the Black Forest?! Or the Demonic Forest?!"

    The flood of questions escaped before I could stop myself.

    And then¡­ "Silence."

    The word sliced through the air like a cold blade.

    My mouth snapped shut instantly.

    The man¡¯s golden gaze didn¡¯t waver. It showed no impatience, no irritation¡­ not even a hint of emotion. Yet, it made me freeze.

    "Does this generation truly not know that it is disrespectful to interrupt an elder?"

    His tone was simple. Unhurried. It held no need for force.

    And yet¡­ the pressure it carried was suffocating.

    I tried to open my mouth to respond. Nothing came out. I tried to move a finger. Nothing budged. It was as if something invisible was pinning my body to the ground. This wasn¡¯t like the overwhelming yet composed aura of the Patriarch. It wasn¡¯t an elegant surge of mana like Leopold¡¯s. Even the warrior of Dracknum, with his crushing presence, still radiated something perceptible.

    But this man¡­ He exuded nothing. No presence. No hostility. No sign of power. And yet¡­ My body trembled against my will. My legs weakened. And I could not lift my head.

    ''Terrifying.'' That was the only word my mind could form.

    My gaze was locked on his feet, unable to rise any higher. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was fear, forced reverence, or something beyond my comprehension.

    All I knew was¡­ there was nothing I could do.

    Then¡­ the man let out a soft sigh.

    "Better." The smile returned to his lips¡ªsubtle, carrying something I couldn¡¯t decipher.

    "Now, as I was saying¡­ It is a great pleasure, after centuries, to finally have someone reach the Hunter¡¯s Trial."

    ''Huh?'' My eyes widened. Every muscle in my body tensed. But I couldn¡¯t say a word.

    "Once more, welcome, descendant. This is the Blood Mausoleum¡ªthe pride of all Dracknum. The place where true hunters are forged."

    ''Blood Mausoleum?''

    My heart jolted. Every word he spoke pulled me deeper into confusion.

    The Blood Mausoleum¡­ it was supposed to be destroyed. Lost to time. The family records stated it had been wiped out over three hundred years ago during the demonic invasion.

    It was a legendary place, long thought to be nothing more than myth¡ªmentioned only in the elders'' tales and the oldest family archives. The place where the Hunter¡¯s Trial reached its peak. The place where the fate of the Dracknum was decided. It was said that no one could truly be a Dracknum until they had entered the Blood Mausoleum¡­ and emerged victorious.

    And now, I was standing inside it.

    ¡®The records were wrong.¡¯ I swallowed hard, my mind racing to process the weight of this discovery. But before I could piece it all together, the man spoke again.

    His golden eyes locked onto mine¡ªlike they were peering straight into my soul.

    "Young Dracknum, tell me¡­" His voice was calm. Too calm. "Why has it been over three hundred years since I have seen a descendant?" Each word carried genuine curiosity. "And how is it that you have come to be here?"

    My throat went dry.

    "What is happening in the outside world?"

    He waited, expecting my answers. But¡­ I couldn¡¯t respond. I was still trapped, as if an invisible weight was holding me down. Whatever he had done to me was still in effect. My body trembled slightly, muscles tensed against my will.

    ¡®What is wrong with the people in this world?¡¯ My irritation was growing. ¡®Do they just decide when someone can or can¡¯t speak?!¡¯

    Before my frustration could rise any further, he laughed.

    A short, drawn-out chuckle, as if he had just remembered something. "Ha! I forgot."

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    The pressure on me vanished in an instant. My shoulders relaxed. Air filled my lungs more easily.

    "It¡¯s been so long since I last did this¡­" He let out a lighthearted chuckle.

    I exhaled a deep sigh. There was nothing I could do but accept that in this world, things simply worked in an arbitrary way.

    I adjusted my posture, trying to regain some composure.

    "Before I answer, how about introducing yourself first?" I crossed my arms, forcing myself to hold a firm gaze. "After all, it¡¯s not every day someone survives for over three hundred years."

    I confronted him directly.

    The man narrowed his eyes slightly, as if evaluating my nerve. Then, he smiled. "A brave boy, I see." He tilted his head ever so slightly, seeming satisfied with my boldness. "But first¡­ I am not alive. You must have realized that by now."

    A heavy silence filled the space between us. I didn¡¯t react. Because, deep down, I had already expected that answer.

    "I can hardly even be called a person." I kept my gaze fixed on him. "No reaction?" He let out a sigh as he observed me. "I am merely a remnant of the will and soul of someone¡­ embedded into a golem."

    My thoughts halted for a moment. The revelation didn¡¯t completely shock me, but¡­ it was still unbelievable.

    I knew about golems. Artificial creatures made from stone, metal, or even flesh¡ªsometimes formed from pure elemental mana, activated through magic. But a sentient, autonomous golem? That was unprecedented. Even in the modern age, no one would be capable of creating something like this.

    And more than that¡­ He had been active for over three hundred years.

    "..."

    I remained silent.

    Not because I had nothing to say, but because I was forcing myself not to show surprise. My mind was racing, analyzing all the possibilities.

    ¡®If he¡¯s been here for so long, beyond just a core, he must have his own mana source¡­¡¯

    ¡®Could he be capable of accumulating mana on his own?¡¯

    ¡®Or maybe he hibernates to conserve energy¡­?¡¯

    ¡®That would mean¡­¡¯

    My thoughts were tangled in theories, but before I could get lost in them, I forced myself to refocus.

    I took a deep breath and centered on the essential. "And this ¡®someone¡¯¡­ would that be Abel Dracknum?" I asked,I asked, after all I didn''t know that name, it wasn''t even in the family records that I had spent years reading. ''When I get back to the mansion I''ll have to rummage through the library, or even the Patriarch office''

    The golem¡¯s smile grew slightly. "I see you¡¯re not entirely ignorant." He tilted his head almost imperceptibly, as if acknowledging my merit for knowing at least that much.

    "Yes." His golden eyes gleamed faintly, as if testing my reaction.

    I held my firm stance. "In that case, how should I address you?"

    He remained silent for a moment, as if evaluating my question, then finally answered: "You may call me Galdric Audinstein."

    ¡®Audinstein¡­?¡¯ The surname felt distant, almost familiar, but before I could dwell on it, he didn¡¯t give me the chance.

    "I have answered your question." His tone was firm. "Now, it is your turn to answer mine."

    I wanted to argue. But¡­ there was nothing I could do. My expression betrayed a childish frustration, but in the end, I accepted the rules of this game.

    "Okay, okay, I¡¯ll answer." I sighed, crossing my arms. "First of all, my name is Alexander Wolfgang The Dracknum, in case you forgot to ask."

    There was a slight touch of irony in my voice. After all, if he wanted answers, the least he could do was ask who I was first.

    He didn¡¯t react, simply waiting for me to talk.

    "Now, as for the rest¡­ here¡¯s the deal..."

    <hr>

    I spent hours recounting everything I knew about the outside world to the golem, Galdric Audinstein. From the last four centuries to the present day.

    ¡ª The Great Demonic Invasion, which nearly wiped out the entire continent.

    ¡ª The fall of the Vinland Empire, now nothing more than a small kingdom, a mere echo of what it once was.

    ¡ª The aggressive expansion of the Ragnar Empire, solidifying itself as one of the greatest powers in history.

    ¡ª The ruin of entire cities like Ulthar, Eldershade, and Falkreath¡ªonce thriving, now mere memories on old maps.

    ¡ª The creation of the Principality of Magnum, a consequence of Allyth¨¦on¡¯s internal conflicts, reshaping the balance of power.

    ¡ª The Duchy of Silvermoon, once an independent kingdom, now under the rule of the Kingdom of Allyth¨¦on.

    And countless other changes.

    The most recent, however, was the exploration of the Sea of Darkness, undertaken by the Dracknum family 45 years ago¡ªan absolute disaster.

    The failure not only claimed the lives of countless elites and elders but also left the patriarch at the time gravely wounded, teetering on the brink of death. A family that had stood as an unshakable pillar for centuries suffered a devastating blow¡ªa decline from which it never fully recovered.

    Still, Galdric remained motionless.

    His eyes didn¡¯t blink. His expression was cold, distant. It was like telling history to a statue¡ªone that absorbed information but gave nothing in return, not even a flicker of emotion.

    But then¡­ for the first time, he reacted.

    When I mentioned that the Blood Mausoleum had been destroyed during the demonic invasion, his brow furrowed.

    And with a voice laced with incredulity, he countered: "Wrong."

    My body instinctively tensed.

    "How could the Mausoleum be lost? It cannot be destroyed. After all, we are inside it at this very moment." His voice, once cold and measured, now carried absolute conviction.

    "Perhaps the access was lost¡­ perhaps the key. But the Blood Mausoleum never moved, nor was it invaded or plundered."

    "It has always remained where it was built."

    My eyes widened slightly. "Where¡­?"

    Galdric looked straight at me. "At the Threshold. Between the Black Forest and the Demonic Dimension."

    My breath hitched for a moment. ¡®So I really am¡­ at the boundary between the planes.¡¯ That revelation brought a strange sense of relief.

    If the Mausoleum had never moved¡­ then I had never truly left Dracknum territory. Which meant¡­ there was still a chance to escape.

    I continued my account, telling him everything that had happened since I entered the Black Forest¡ªthe Trial, the mercenaries, the fight, and how I ended up here.

    When I finished, Galdric remained silent for a long moment.

    And then¡­ he smiled slightly. "Interesting." He leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes locked onto mine.

    And then, with a cutting calmness, he asked: "I¡¯ve heard your account. Some facts are intriguing, others¡­ truly lamentable. To think that the family has declined in the past three hundred years¡­ But it¡¯s not unheard of. Times of glory are always followed by periods of decline."

    He paused briefly, his golden eyes glinting in the silence. "I have also answered your questions. And yet¡­ something doesn¡¯t add up."

    The tension in the air thickened. Then, with a piercing gaze, he questioned:

    "Boy¡­ are you truly a Dracknum?"

 A True Dracknum

    "Boy, are you really a Dracknum?"

    Galdric¡¯s words echoed in my mind, the silence stretching into something suffocating.

    My first reaction was confusion. My chest tightened as I tried¡ªjust for a moment¡ªto grasp the meaning behind that question. But¡­ I gave up.

    "Why ask that?" My voice was steady, but deep down, uncertainty lurked.

    Galdric offered a faint smile. It wasn¡¯t mocking, nor was it one of satisfaction. It was one of contemplation.

    "Under normal circumstances," he began, crossing his arms while watching me, "anyone would take offense. They¡¯d raise their voice in fury and proclaim, ¡®I am a Dracknum!¡¯" He paused briefly, tilting his head as if assessing my reaction.

    "But you¡¯re different." There was something in his tone I couldn¡¯t ignore.

    My hands clenched into fists, almost reflexively.

    "Perhaps," Galdric continued, "you¡¯ve already suspected that something is off. That maybe you¡¯re not of pure blood. Or¡­ maybe you don¡¯t have Dracknum blood at all."

    The room seemed to close in around me. The world outside faded into nothing.

    I didn¡¯t respond. My mind was screaming, but¡­ I remained silent. Because everything he said was true¡ªthis doubt had always lingered within me.

    Galdric, however, didn¡¯t seem disappointed by my lack of response. If anything, he looked pleased.

    "Strange," he mused, stroking his silver beard. "I, who feel no emotions, am experiencing something remarkably close to curiosity when I look at you, boy."

    His golden eyes narrowed slightly. "But there is one undeniable fact. I would not have awakened unless summoned by a true Dracknum."

    His gaze lingered on me, fascinated. "Which means¡­ no matter how mixed your blood may be, it remains pure."

    I swallowed hard. That should have been a relief, and yet¡­ why didn¡¯t it feel like one?

    But Galdric wasn¡¯t finished. His voice grew heavier, more probing.

    His golden eyes bore into me, dissecting my very existence. "And yet, you are a direct descendant," he said, his tone meticulously curious.

    His eyes gleamed. "Your lineage is extremely strong. Unquestionably pure. But at the same time¡­" He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his gaze, as if trying to reconcile a contradiction. "Just what are you?"

    His words weighed on me, but my mind was elsewhere.

    I couldn¡¯t answer. Because the moment he questioned my identity¡­ my very consciousness spiraled into chaos.

    It makes sense. Was my body artificially created? No. More like¡­ modified.

    My existence wasn¡¯t natural to this world. I was both born in Asgardia and not born at all. My body had been shaped, altered to fit into this reality.

    So, was that it? Was that why I lacked the traits of a Dracknum?

    My thoughts spun, desperately searching for something¡ªanything¡ªthat could prove or disprove that conclusion. And then¡­ a name surfaced in my mind.

    ¡®Leopold.¡¯

    ¡®He said we wouldn¡¯t have any issues with our lineage.¡¯

    ¡®Damn it¡­¡¯ I muttered under my breath.¡¯

    ¡®He also said I wouldn¡¯t have identity crises. And look where that got me!¡¯

    My jaw clenched. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn¡¯t even noticed Galdric continuing to speak. His words reached my ears, but they slipped away before I could grasp them. My mind was drowning in the whirlwind of my own doubts.

    There had been cases before¡ªfamily members who weren¡¯t immune to illusions or were born with weaker bodies. But in every case, the explanation had been simple: their blood wasn¡¯t pure enough.

    But that wasn¡¯t my case. ¡®So why? What¡¯s wrong with me?¡¯

    Galdric¡¯s voice cut through the storm in my mind, but I wasn¡¯t listening.

    "Alexander." He called again, firmer this time.

    Still, my thoughts were lost in the chaos.

    Until¡ª

    PAF!

    ¡°Agh!!¡± My body jolted slightly from the impact, the sting on my forehead spreading like embers beneath my skin.

    "Was that really necessary?!" I snapped, rubbing the sore spot while glaring at Galdric.The blow wasn¡¯t strong enough to actually hurt me, but it was just enough to snap me back to reality.

    The golem crossed his arms, watching me with an unforgiving gaze. ¡°If this were anywhere else, you''d already be dead." His tone was cold, matter-of-fact.

    I scowled, irritation bubbling to the surface.

    "What kind of hunter gets distracted so easily?" Galdric''s voice was firm.

    "I¡¯m not a hunter!" I shot back immediately, the frustration in my voice sharper than I intended.

    Shaking my head, I let out an impatient sigh. "Anyway¡­ what was that loop?" I asked, shifting the conversation, trying to reorganize my thoughts.

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    "Loop?" Galdric echoed, clear confusion in his voice.

    I closed my eyes for a second. ¡®Argh.¡¯

    I sighed internally, realizing my mistake. "That endless fall¡­ with Jotundrim inscriptions."

    That bottomless abyss had intrigued me since the moment I arrived in this cavern. More than Galdric. More than the mausoleum itself.

    Sentient golems were fascinating, sure, but they weren¡¯t beyond belief. Just impossible to create in this age. Legends and old tales were full of creatures like him.

    The Blood Mausoleum, on the other hand, was far more intriguing. A lost relic of the past, shrouded in mystery. But looking around, it didn¡¯t seem all that impressive¡ªat least not this part. Maybe I was still in the outer sections.

    Even so, the abyss remained at the top of my list of questions.

    "Seriously¡­ whose damn idea was that riddle?" I muttered.

    Galdric crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "You''re referring to the Fall of Discernment." His golden eyes flickered as if pulling memories from a distant era. "It has been a long time since anyone entered through there¡­"

    ¡®Or through any other entrance, for that matter.¡¯ That thought surfaced immediately in my mind.

    Anyone with even a passing interest in Dracknum history knew that the mausoleum had multiple entrances, each with a different requirement. But the specifics¡ªthe exact number, their locations¡ªhad been lost to time. In fact, no detailed records of the mausoleum had ever been preserved. Only vague, widely known facts, passed down orally.

    "It¡¯s nothing more than an illusion," Galdric began. But upon noticing the look on my face, he corrected himself, "Or rather, not in the way you think. After all, Dracknums are immune to illusions."

    I crossed my arms, waiting for him to elaborate. So far, none of this made any sense to me.

    "The fall isn¡¯t some simple illusion spell or complex enchantment." He lifted one metallic hand, moving his fingers through the air as if outlining an invisible concept. "It¡¯s far simpler than it seems."

    "A mix of airborne hallucinogens, subtle shifts in perspective, strategically placed magical formations¡­ And, of course, a deep enough hole." He tilted his head slightly. "Voil¨¤. A perfect illusion¡ªwithout using illusion magic."

    My expression darkened. "What?" The word escaped before I could hold it back.

    That didn¡¯t make sense.

    The experience had been real. The sharp wind against my skin, the chill down my spine, the way my body reacted to the void beneath me. That wasn¡¯t just some cheap trick. And if there were hallucinogens in the air, I should¡¯ve felt something afterward¡ªdizziness, disorientation, any kind of side effect.

    But I hadn¡¯t. Nothing at all.

    "Boy, even if I explained it down to the last detail, you wouldn¡¯t understand."

    A flicker of irritation rose in my chest, but I kept my expression neutral.

    Galdric continued. "What you need to understand is that a hunter, a warrior¡­ anyone who lives immersed in bloodshed and battle is always alert. But that constant state of tension doesn¡¯t just affect the mind. It affects the body, too."

    "The riddle exists for a reason," he went on. "Someone who is too tense, always on guard, or overthinks things will never solve it. When under extreme stress¡ªlike you, and everyone else who has fallen into the abyss¡ªwhether from time spent in the Black Forest or other factors, people tend to overlook simple things. They fail to see the obvious."

    He paused, watching me carefully before continuing. "The vast majority of those who pass the test do so without even realizing it."

    That caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

    "Many fail because they either can¡¯t find the riddle or can¡¯t understand it. But¡­ those who give up and simply let go end up escaping without even trying."

    I took a few seconds to process that.

    ¡®So my approach had actually been correct. I just had to relax my body.¡¯

    But that only raised more questions, I fixed my gaze on Galdric. "And where does Jotundrim fit into this?"

    He let out a low chuckle, almost mocking. "If I still had emotions, I¡¯d say I¡¯m impressed. Very few people who make it here can even read Jotundrim, let alone understand it."

    I said nothing.

    "Some spend weeks, even months inside the abyss, unable to figure out the riddle. But in the end¡­ there always comes a moment when the body tires. The mind gives in. And then¡­" He shrugged. "The path reveals itself."

    I frowned, trying to piece it all together. "So, in the end¡­ it was all just about not fighting against it?"

    Galdric smiled. "Exactly."

    I let out a long sigh. On one hand, it was frustrating. On the other¡­ it made sense. But there was still something gnawing at me.

    "Alright, fine. I get the concept." I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to organize my thoughts.

    "But what about the Jotundrim? You still haven¡¯t answered that." Crossing my arms, I stared at him expectantly. "And more importantly¡­ who is Abel Dracknum?"

    Galdric remained silent for a few moments. The glow in his golden eyes seemed to intensify briefly, but his expression¡ªif a golem could even have one¡ªremained unreadable.

    My patience was starting to wear thin. "¡­And why wouldn¡¯t I understand how the Abyss of Discernment works? For that matter, why the hell is it even called that? It has nothing to do with discernment."

    Still no response. He just watched me. The silence grew heavier, almost tangible, pressing down on the space between us.

    Then, to my surprise, Galdric let out a small sigh and¡ªwas that a faint smile? "This is why I was against letting children take the trial."

    "Children?" I frowned.

    It had been a murmur, almost like he was speaking to himself. But loud enough for me to hear.

    A sharp pang of irritation hit me. "What, cat got your tongue? Why don¡¯t you just answer me already?" I grumbled, crossing my arms tighter.

    Galdric uncrossed his own and stepped forward. "Boy, you are not ready for those answers. Whether it¡¯s because you are still too young, too fragile, or because your foundation simply isn¡¯t solid enough." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "Be patient. When you gain more experience, you¡¯ll come to understand naturally."

    I rolled my eyes, frustrated. ¡®Is it that hard to just admit he doesn¡¯t know? Or that he simply doesn¡¯t want to answer?¡¯

    Swallowing my annoyance, I let out a deep sigh, it wasn¡¯t worth pressing the issue right now.

    "Fine, whatever." I shook my head, focusing on what actually mattered. "How do I get out of here?"

    The golem didn¡¯t answer immediately. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying me with that same infuriating calm that felt completely out of sync with my urgency.

    "You¡¯ve barely arrived, and you¡¯re already eager to leave?" he muttered, crossing his arms once again.

    I didn¡¯t respond. I just stared at him, waiting for a useful answer.

    He let out a brief sound¡ªsomewhere between a sigh and a dry chuckle.

    "Unfortunately for you," he went on, "you can only leave this place after completing the trial."

    My body tensed. The words echoed in my mind, stirring memories that had been buried beneath the adrenaline of recent events.

    ¡®How could I be so stupid?¡¯ The texts from ancient archives, the stories about the Blood Mausoleum¡ªall of it started resurfacing in my brain.

    "Once inside¡­ only a true Dracknum can leave, isn¡¯t that right?" I murmured the words more to myself than to him, but Galdric nodded.

    "Exactly."

    I didn¡¯t like where this conversation was going. Not one bit.

    My eyes narrowed. "And what does this trial consist of?"

    "What are the risks?"

    "How long does it take?"

    Galdric tilted his head slightly, as if amused by my growing anxiety. "You¡¯ll only know once it begins."

    I clenched my jaw, feeling my fists tighten instinctively.

    ¡®Fantastic.¡¯ I scoffed internally, my mind dripping with sarcasm.

 Demonic Mirror of Erebus

    It was a long-standing tradition within the Dracknum family never to reveal the details of the Hunter¡¯s Judgment. The records spoke of the judgment lethality, the skills required, and the centuries of tribulations that had forged the lineage¡¯s leaders¡­ but nowhere was there any mention of what the trial actually entailed.

    This had led many to theorize that the judgment either varied from person to person or changed with each generation. Yet, since no one was allowed to reveal its contents, no answers were ever found.

    The only certainty¡ªagreed upon by all who had undergone it before the decline three centuries ago¡ªwas this: it was hell.

    ¡°One thing I can tell you is that, on average, it takes five years to complete,¡± Galdric continued, his voice indifferent. ¡°The most talented finish in two or three. The truly exceptional, in a single year. And the anomalies¡­ in a matter of months.¡±

    That was the moment I stopped listening.

    ¡®Five years?... Five years stuck here?¡¯ My mind raced, searching for possibilities. I had already spent six months in the Demon Forest, surviving among beasts and unrelenting dangers. Six months away from civilization¡ªand, more than anything, from my precious books.

    And now¡­ at least five more years?

    I refused to accept that. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± I growled, my fists clenching, my expression hardening. ¡°Isn¡¯t there a faster way?¡±

    Galdric watched me in silence, his ancient eyes¡ªfull of secrets I couldn¡¯t begin to fathom¡ªfixated on me, studying me with the patience only an immortal could possess.

    Seconds dragged on. A minute¡­ two minutes¡­ three¡­. four¡­ five.

    My anxiety mounted, but he remained unmoving. The silence stretched until the only things I could hear were the sound of my own breath, the faint hum of the air around me, and the increasingly loud pounding of my heart.

    Then, after ten long minutes, he finally spoke.

    ¡°Alexander¡­ let¡¯s do this.¡± His voice cut through the silence like a blade. Slowly, he raised a hand, and the wall beside us began to crumble into dust. The solid stone dissolved like sand blown by the wind, revealing a cavernous passageway in its place.

    A dark corridor, formed of pure, impenetrable blackness.

    A shiver ran down my spine as I realized something was¡­ wrong.

    The entrance was surrounded by a transparent film, resembling a distorted, liquid glass. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer rippled across its surface, like the reflection of an unseen world on the surface of a lake of black water.

    My instincts screamed at me, this was no ordinary passageway.

    Galdric turned to me, his expression as unreadable as ever.

    ¡°I will give you two choices.¡±

    I swallowed hard.

    ¡°The first: remain here and undergo the Hunter¡¯s Judgment. If you do this, and truly push yourself¡ªuntil you can go no further, and yet somehow still find the strength to move forward¡ªthen, like all those who came before you, you will emerge from this place as a true Dracknum.¡±

    He paused, letting his words settle. ¡°The second¡­¡± His eyes gleamed in the dim light. ¡°Cross the Demon Mirror of Erebus.¡±

    My entire body tensed.

    ¡°If you make it through successfully, you¡¯ll return to where you came from. It¡¯s a direct path¡ªone way, no return.¡±

    My breath caught in my throat, a cold chill crept down my spine.

    ¡°If you pass through it and emerge on the other side, you will have proven yourself a Dracknum¡­ or, at the very least, that you possess the bare minimum qualifications to be considered one.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off it. So this was the shortcut? At first glance, it seemed like the better option. But it wasn¡¯t. It was a death sentence.

    ¡°You must be joking¡­¡± I muttered.

    The Demon Mirror of Erebus. One of the most terrifying and dangerous relics in history.

    Erebus had once been an ancient demonic kingdom that existed on the material plane over seven hundred years ago. Unlike other infernal domains, Erebus did not reside within the demon realm but rather in the very reality that Allyth¨¦on now stood upon.

    Erebus. A shadow-cloaked empire, a kingdom that wavered between the real and the illusory¡ªa land where the line between existence and oblivion was dangerously thin.

    For those who dared to cross its borders unprepared, there was no return.

    The darkness of Erebus was not merely the absence of light¡ªit was a veil of despair, a web of illusions that wove themselves into one¡¯s very perception, distorting reality until the victim no longer knew if they even existed at all.

    At the heart of this forsaken domain stood its ruler: Azrael, the Lord of Perpetual Night.

    The Demon King of Despair.

    Among demons, where power was often measured by sheer brutality, Azrael was an exception. He wasn¡¯t just powerful¡ªhe understood the nature of the mind, the soul, and fear itself. It was said that a single glance from him could condemn a person to death¡ªnot by blade or magic, but through the sheer collapse of their will. His illusions were so vivid they rooted themselves in reality, some unraveling the mind until it fractured beyond repair, others consuming the body until all that remained was an empty husk.

    Some believed that if he had wished, Azrael could have risen to the very pinnacle of the demonic hierarchy. His power rivaled that of the great kings and overlords of the demon realm, and yet¡­ he remained in Erebus.

    Not out of ambition. Not for conquest. What drove Azrael was something else¡ªsomething subtler, more enigmatic. And it was that very enigma that led to his downfall.

    The ancestors of the Dracknum family, along with warriors, mages, mercenaries, and adventurers, rose against him. What began as a territorial war quickly escalated into a cataclysmic conflict. The continent itself barely survived the devastation. Nature, kingdoms, civilizations¡ªeverything was swept into the war. The very land suffered, and even a millennium later, scars of that battle still marred the world.

    But in the end, Azrael fell. His domain crumbled. His kingdom was banished to the demon plane.

    His body was destroyed. And yet, even centuries later, his name was never forgotten. Whispered in legends, written in forbidden tomes, invoked in nightmares¡ªAzrael had never truly ceased to exist.

    But his soul? Azrael¡¯s soul had been sealed within a Mirror¡ªone that became a cursed artifact of unparalleled destruction. Since then, the Eye of Azrael had remained a relic of dread. A living portal, brimming with shadows of despair, a reflection of pure ruin.

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    ¡®Ninety percent of those who dared to cross it¡­ were never seen again.¡¯ My fingers clenched at my sides.

    I knew the stories. The records claimed the Mirror had been destroyed the day of the demon invasion in Dracknum.

    But¡­ it wasn¡¯t the first time today that those same records had been proven wrong.

    I turned my gaze to the passage. What stood before me was not just a gateway. It was an abyss¡ªone I knew with absolute certainty I would not survive.

    And Galdric expected me to step into it?

    It was common knowledge that no one should ever set foot inside that Mirror. Any fool who did was doomed to relive their worst days, months, or perhaps even years. Time within it was unstable, flowing unpredictably. Many who entered emerged long after, claiming they had spent an eternity trapped inside. Most returned broken, consumed by fear and despair. Some came back as mere shadows of what they once were¡ªeyes vacant, as if their very souls had been stripped away.

    And then, there were those who simply never returned¡ªneither in body nor in spirit.

    My breathing grew heavy. My heart pounded against my ribs as my gaze remained locked on that dark threshold, on that shimmering, distorted film that pulsed like a living thing, waiting to devour me. My hands were clammy. A shiver ran through me, unbidden.

    I was afraid. And for the first time in a long, long time¡­

    I had no idea what to do.

    <hr>

    While Alexander stood at the crossroads of fate, far away in Dracknum, the suffocating darkness of the dungeon swallowed everything.

    The stench of damp stone and rusted iron filled the air, mingling with the bitter scent of dried blood that clung to the ancient walls. Distant droplets echoed through the corridors, the slow, rhythmic sound breaking the tense silence of the cell.

    A young man with messy black hair and golden eyes lay shackled to the cold floor, his slender frame marred with bruises. The chains binding his wrists and ankles were nothing but a formality¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t be escaping, even without them.

    Before him, four figures loomed like titanic shadows.

    And at their center stood Baldwin Dracknum, vice-patriarch of the family and a living legend.

    Israel Dracknum, Baldwin¡¯s eldest son and one of the most promising young talents of the family, reached instinctively for something at his waist¡ªonly to grasp at empty air. He sighed, remembering that his beloved claymore was no longer at his side.

    As the patriarch¡¯s firstborn and heir to the Dracknum lineage, his expression was cold and meticulous. Yet, every so often, his gaze flickered toward the entrance, where C¨¦sar Dracknum lingered at a distance.

    Standing just outside the open doorway of the cell, C¨¦sar observed the scene with clenched fists. He had been forbidden from approaching, his temper making him a liability. By his side lay the group''s weapons¡ªhe had been tasked with guarding them.

    But beyond them all, there was a fifth presence.

    A man clad in black, his aura distinct from the others. He bore neither the commanding air of a noble nor the crushing presence of a warrior¡­ yet something about him unsettled even the most seasoned Dracknum warriors.

    He belonged to the Black Squadron.

    The executioners of House Dracknum. Assassination, espionage, interrogation, torture¡­ No task was too vile for them. And today, this man had only one job¡ªto extract the truth from Ethan.

    But before he could begin, Baldwin erupted in fury.

    The vice-patriarch¡¯s massive hand seized Ethan by the collar, wrenching him from the floor in a single motion. The boy was lifted effortlessly into the air, like nothing more than a rag doll, the chains on his wrists clinking as they restricted his movements.

    ¡°Such insolence!¡± Baldwin¡¯s voice boomed through the dungeon like rolling thunder. The stone walls trembled under the weight of his fury. ¡°At first, I refused to believe the report¡­ But to think that MY blood would commit such an act!¡±

    Golden eyes flashed with defiance. Ethan bared his teeth in a bitter smile.

    ¡°And so what if I¡¯m your blood?¡± he spat, his words venomous. ¡°It never meant a damn thing! Admit it. To you, I¡¯m nothing but a bastard. A mistake. Just another one of the ¡®incidents¡¯ in the great Vice-Lord of Dracknum¡¯s history!¡±

    The weight of his words landed like a well-placed strike.

    Israel remained still, the corners of his lips twitching slightly into a brief smirk before he regained composure. Luminus, on the other hand, frowned ever so slightly but remained impassive.

    Ethan¡¯s gaze burned as he locked eyes with Baldwin.

    ¡°Look at me.¡± His voice was raw with anger and something else¡ªsomething fractured. ¡°Tell me, do you even know my name?¡±

    A heavy silence settled over them.

    Ethan exhaled sharply, his expression caught between fury and something less defined¡ªloneliness, perhaps.

    ¡°Of course, you do,¡± he scoffed bitterly. ¡°At least, I assume you do. You must have read the damn report they put together on me. Or did you even bother?¡±

    Baldwin remained silent.

    Ethan¡¯s laughter was dry, hollow.

    ¡°Did you ever, for even a moment, consider me your son? Did you ever care that I existed? That your other bastards exist?¡± His voice sharpened, dripping with scorn. ¡°How many are there? Do you even know how they live? If they even eat?...¡± The boy was out of breath, but still continued ¡°Tell me¡­ Did you ever love my mother? Or did you just feed her sweet lies, the same way you did to so many others?¡±

    Silence.

    Baldwin did not answer.

    ¡°Of course not.¡± The boy¡¯s voice carried the weight of exhaustion¡ªnot just physical, but the kind that sank into the bones, into the soul. ¡°The great Baldwin doesn¡¯t need words, does he? What woman wouldn¡¯t willingly fall into bed with a powerfull Dracknum? And yet, they call my mother and the others whores.¡±

    He spat on the ground. ¡°But in the end, you¡¯re worse. Because at least they never pretended to be something they weren¡¯t.¡±

    A second passed. Then another.

    Then, Baldwin¡¯s fingers loosened, and Ethan fell. He hit the cold floor with a dull thud, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. He didn¡¯t lift his head.

    Israel''s fists remained unclenched, yet a faint tremor betrayed his effort to suppress the slight upward twitch of his lips

    Luminus kept his expression neutral, but his stance was rigid. And C¨¦sar¡­

    C¨¦sar looked on the verge of an explosion. His jaw was locked, the vein in his neck pulsing violently.

    And Baldwin? He simply stood there, unmoving, staring into nothing.

    For a long moment, no one spoke.

    Then, Israel took a step forward. His gaze fell upon the boy, cold and precise. Slowly, he crouched, lowering himself to Ethan¡¯s level.

    ¡°Tell us, Ethan.¡± His voice was smooth, refined, every syllable carefully measured. He didn¡¯t waste time with pretense.

    ¡°Why did you aid the mercenaries? What reason did you have to betray your own bloodline?¡±

    Ethan didn¡¯t answer. He didn¡¯t even look at him.

    Ethan''s entire body began to tremble. A small smile flickered on Israel¡¯s lips as he watched the boy''s reaction. He attempted to question Ethan again, but was abruptly cut off.

    ¡°Hmph.¡± The member of the Black Squadron sighed, clearly unimpressed. Unlike the nobles around him, he had no patience for psychological games. ¡°Why summon me if all you intend to do is chatter idly with the suspect?¡± His voice dripped with disdain.

    Baldwin hesitated for a moment, his clenched fist twitching at his side. The words left his mouth before he had even fully formed them. ¡°I thought perhaps reason, or even intimidation, might work¡­ but¡­¡±

    He left the sentence unfinished, his mind still weighed down by Ethan¡¯s accusations.

    The hooded man strode forward, each step echoing ominously against the cold stone walls. A thin, cruel smile crept across his lips as he knelt before the shackled boy.

    he took off his hood and looked into Ethan''s eyes ¡°Boy¡­¡± he murmured, slipping a hand inside his robes. ¡°I appreciate your silence. Otherwise, my fun would¡¯ve been cut short.¡±

    With slow, deliberate movements, he retrieved a dark leather case.

    And opened it.

    Inside lay an array of horrors¡ªtorture instruments of varying shapes and sizes, each one tainted with the remnants of dried blood.

    Ethan broke out in a cold sweat but remained silent.

    The man tilted his head slightly, studying him with eyes devoid of warmth or humanity.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡­ They may be small, but they will make you suffer.¡±

    And then¡­ the screams began.

    <hr>

    Minutes dragged on.

    The air in the dungeon grew thick, saturated with the suffocating echoes of Ethan¡¯s muffled cries.

    Israel, Baldwin, and Luminus had stepped away, leaving the torturer to his work. They now stood outside, joining C¨¦sar in the dimly lit corridor just outside the cell.

    C¨¦sar leaned against the wall, eyes shut, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

    Then, light footsteps echoed through the corridor. A hooded figure approached, their slim silhouette wrapped in dark robes adorned with delicate golden embroidery. As they passed the nobles, they gave a slight nod before stepping into the chamber of torment.

    "Yellow Squadron?" C¨¦sar''s brow furrowed, already anticipating what awaited the boy.

    The Yellow Squadron was known for its role in medical care, first aid, and healing in Dracknum.

    But here?... The door shut behind them. And once more, the air was filled with screams¡ªonly this time, they were accompanied by the torturer¡¯s gleeful laughter.