Volume 2 chapter 23

Guided by Lady Omyr’s blessing, Charlo stepped into another scene.

He stood in a courtyard under the blanket of night. Above, the stars twinkled like diamonds scattered on black velvet, casting a silvery frost over the ground.

"Where is this now?" Charlo looked around from the center of the yard.

The surrounding houses were simple, earthen structures typical of commoners. Their lights were extinguished, standing silent and humble in the darkness.

Suddenly, a sound came from above. Charlo looked up.

On the roof, two figures sat side by side, gazing up at the starry expanse.

"Wow! Sister Aria! That star is so bright! What is its name?"

A small, black-haired boy pointed a finger at the sky, his voice full of wonder.

"That is the Daystar. It’s the brightest star in the sky. The direction it sits in is the East," the older girl with flaxen hair answered softly.

"Oh, oh! What about those three stars? They make a triangle! Are they Triangle Stars?" The boy pointed eagerly to another cluster.

"That's right! Those are the Triangle Stars," the girl laughed, her voice gentle as the breeze.

"Oh..."

Standing below, Charlo watched the two figures huddled together on the roof. He chose not to disturb the tranquility, content to witness this moment of pure warmth.

The starlight that night was exceptionally bright yet gentle, draping over the two children and casting a long, unified shadow on the ground. The night breeze carried no chill; it was like soft silk brushing against the skin, tangling black and flaxen strands of hair together in the air.

Charlo watched silently until the figures faded away.

He lifted the crystal pendant. Another silhouette had appeared inside the gem—a figure with his back turned, looking up at the sky, but this time, the girl was no longer by his side...

"Phew..."

Charlo took a deep breath, then turned around. Without looking back, he pushed open the garden gate and walked out.

The moment he left, the small courtyard dissolved into nothingness.

The scene shifted again. Night turned to day.

"Hah! Yah!"

Under the shade of a large tree, a black-haired teenager in plain clothes swung a wooden sword, practicing his cuts with rhythmic determination.

"Wrong, wrong!" The flaxen-haired girl, now older, stopped him. "Don't stiffen your arms! Relax your waist!"

"Yes!" the boy answered, panting heavily.

"Watch your breathing! Never let it become chaotic!" The girl pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Alright, that's enough for now. Time to rest and eat!"

After a few more minutes of practice, the girl sat down on the grass and patted the spot beside her.

"Okay!"

The boy's face lit up. He dropped the wooden sword and ran over to sit.

"Hey! Regulate your breath first!" The girl tapped his head lightly, scolding him playfully. "Did you forget already?"

"Eh?! No, no, no! I was just in a hurry and forgot! Haha..."

The boy scratched his head sheepishly, smiled, then stood up and closed his eyes to perform his breathing exercises.

After calming his breath, he sat down again.

"You... never forget to regulate your breath after practice! Otherwise, you'll hurt your body more than you help it!" The girl chided him while opening a lunch basket. She took out a fluffy loaf of bread stuffed with meat and honey.

"Here. Eat."

"Hehe! Thank you, Sister Aria! I'm digging in!" The boy grabbed it eagerly and took a huge bite, his face the picture of bliss.

"Slow down, there's plenty more..."

The image of the two sitting on the grass slowly faded. Charlo stepped out from behind the tree.

Looking at the solitary silhouette of the boy now trapped in the crystal, Charlo remained silent for a long time.

He stood there until the scene collapsed entirely, revealing the hollow void beneath. Only then did he sigh and take another step.

Once more, the scene shifted.

"...And so, the Hero obtained the Holy Sword and set off with his companions once again, beginning the adventure to slay the Demon King..."

In a simple bedroom, the boy sat by the bed, an old, tattered book spread open on his lap. He was reading slowly to a small, sickly girl lying under the covers.

"Big Brother, the Hero is amazing..." the little girl whispered in awe.

"Of course! He is the Hero, after all! He has to be the strongest!" the boy answered matter-of-factly.

"I really want to meet the Hero..." the little girl said, her eyes full of longing.

"That's impossible! The book says a Hero only descends once every thousand years!" The boy sighed.

"A thousand years... how long is that?" she asked curiously.

"Umm... probably as long as Grandpa's Grandpa's Grandpa's Grandpa... a lot of grandpas' time!" The boy struggled to quantify it.

"Ah! That long..." The little girl lowered her head, disappointed.

"There, there! Heroes aren't easy to meet anyway. It's probably harder than meeting the Lord!" The boy comforted her, stroking her hair.

"Mm... then later, when you grow up, Brother, can you become a Hero? Hehe... then I would be the Hero's sister! That would definitely scare everyone in town!" The little girl giggled mischievously.

"Impossible! Heroes are summoned; they aren't from this world! We can't become Heroes!" The boy shook his head.

"Oh... then tell me more about the Hero's story! I want to hear about his next adventure!"

Charlo stood in the dim light of the doorway, watching the two children and listening to their crisp, innocent voices.

He watched until the scene began to blur, then turned to leave.

But this time, Lady Omyr’s blessing flashed a warning: Danger ahead!

Charlo paused for a second, then stepped forward resolutely.

He wanted to know her past—whether it was warm or cruel.

"SPLAT—"

A flash of sword light. Blood bloomed violently from the teenager's chest.

"BANG!"

A fully armored knight kicked him, sending the boy flying ten meters. He crashed into the dirt and didn't get up.

"Enough! Raymond!"

The flaxen-haired girl, now a young woman, blocked the knight's path, tears streaming down her face.

"Aria! I am merely teaching a lesson to an audacious commoner who dared to offend me! Move!" The knight flicked the blood from his sword, his voice cold.

"He is not a commoner! He is a knight too!" the girl retorted.

"Hmph! A Second-Rank apprentice? What kind of knight is that? He just went from a First-Rank servant to a glorified errand boy!" The knight looked at the boy lying in the mud with contempt.

"Now, Aria. Are you coming back with me to get married, or are you going to keep protecting this trash?"

"Don't... go..."

The boy struggled to lift his head. He reached out a trembling, bloodied hand toward the girl's back...

"...Give me the healing potion!" The girl was silent for a moment, then demanded of the knight.

"Here!"

The knight was decisive. He tossed a vial through the air.

The girl caught it, checked the contents, then rushed to help the boy up and fed him the potion.

"A... Ria! Don't... go..."

The boy used every ounce of his remaining strength to grip her hand, his eyes wide with desperation.

"...I'm sorry, Chris. I dragged this out for three years. I can't delay it any longer..." The girl bit her lip, her voice trembling, tears ruining her makeup.

"Aria! If you want him to live, come with me now! This is the decision of our two families. Neither you nor I have the power to revoke it!" The knight sheathed his sword. "Even if it wasn't me, someone else would come sooner or later. And they wouldn't stop. A commoner against a Baron's family... he wouldn't survive!"

The girl wept. Finally, she gritted her teeth and made her choice. She pried the boy's fingers off her hand, one by one.

"...Goodbye, Chris..."

Charlo watched from a distance. Suddenly, he realized how lucky he had been to be born the son of a Count. From birth, he stood at a summit countless others could never reach.

In this supernatural world, a mere Third-Rank Knight could single-handedly suppress a revolt of thousands of peasants. A Fourth-Rank Knight, a minor landed noble, was a god to the common people. A Baron's family represented centuries of accumulated power and wealth—figures too big for a commoner to even dream of defying.

"It's too much... isn't it?"

Suddenly, a raspy voice whispered in his ear.

Charlo’s eyes narrowed. He whipped his head around. The boy from the memory was standing right next to him!

"How did you detect me?"

Charlo looked at the boy as if seeing a ghost.

The boy still had a wound so deep bone was visible. Fresh crimson blood soaked his clothes. His face was a mask of mud and gore, twisting his features into something hideous.

"It's too much... isn't it?" The boy opened his mouth, emitting a hoarse, inhuman roar.

"It shouldn't be like this... IT SHOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS!"

A pitch-black shadow erupted from behind him, transforming into a terrifying demonic claw that snatched at Charlo.

"!" Charlo was startled but reacted instantly. A longsword materialized in his hand.

"Swish! Swish! Swish!"

Sword light flashed. The demonic claws were severed instantly. Charlo didn't pause; he drove his sword straight toward the boy!

"AHHHH!!"

The boy roared. The shadow behind him exploded in size, morphing into countless giant claws that blotted out the sky, lunging at Charlo simultaneously.

Charlo remained calm in the face of danger. He weaved through the chaotic storm of claws like a swimming dragon, dodging left and right.

"RAAAHH!!"

Unable to land a hit, the boy was thoroughly enraged. He spread his arms. The shadow expanded again—Resentment materialized into giant hands; Fury ignited into actual flames.

But Charlo seized the opening. As the boy exposed his center to unleash his power, Charlo stomped forward, launching himself like an arrow from a bow!

"AHHH..."

The boy screamed, bringing the hands of Resentment down to crush Charlo, but they were too slow.

"SHING!!"

The longsword pierced through his chest. Charlo stood directly in front of him.

The boy lowered his head, staring blankly at the blade in his chest. Then, he looked up at Charlo. His lips twitched, forcing a difficult, tragic smile.

"As expected... I... can do... nothing..."

Tears welled up in his deeply sunken sockets. His bright crimson eyes had long since turned dark and dull.

The tears mixed with the blood and mud on his face, streaking down to paint the visage of a clown.

The giant hands of Resentment dissipated. The flames of Fury extinguished. Even the sky-blotting shadow shrank back, returning to the mundane shape of a boy's shadow.

"I... am just... a failure!"

The boy's body suddenly shattered like a glass bottle, dissolving into countless fragments of light...

Charlo sheathed his sword. He stood in silence for a long time before finally speaking.

​"I’m not gonna give you some big comforting speech. I haven't lived your life, and I don't know what that kind of despair tastes like. I'm just... watching from the outside.​But from where I’m standing, there's only one thing you can do... You have to get back up. I don't care how ugly it looks. I don't care if you're covered in wounds. You struggle to your feet. If not for revenge... then do it just so you can look them in the eye and spit in their faces."

The space fell silent, as if paused.

"Easy for you to say!!"

An enraged voice roared from the darkness.

"Every time I fall, the wound never heals! It happens again and again! Despair after despair! When your bones are shattered and you're dragging your own bleeding corpse through the mud... how?! How are you supposed to stand up then?!"

​The ground beneath Charlo didn't just crumble; it vanished. The floor dropped out, transforming into a bottomless maw that swallowed him whole.

​"Let's see you climb out of the deepest pit of hell! Show me how you struggle when there's nothing left!!"