They were situated in a void filled with nothing. The two sat on nothing, staring at the other, using a mysterious force to stay in place.

“Let me tell you my story.”

“I know it quite well, there’s really no need.”

“No, here, no one can bother us. So I can take all the time I need. Here, at the end of everything.

The bright sun shone down on the polished manor this beautiful morning. Trees of a multitude of species peered into the interior of its territory, climbing over the high tower wall. Along them, vines nurturing young flower buds grasped onto the stone walls and crawled along them down to the hard cobbled floor.

Under the protection of the great wall was an estate situated in the center. Around it was a training center on the west wing while on the east wing, there was a luxurious garden harboring many different beautiful trees with small, delicate flowers under them.

Sunlight peered through the large windows, illuminating the manner inside. Rising from the East, it initially warmed the large master bedroom, where a young boy slept. At the end of the bedroom, he slept on a distinguished bed filled with the pelts of many different animals. Each was soft, fluffy, and warm, deepening his sleep and lightening the dark marks under his eyes. Lying down, spread out along the bed, his long, dirty gold hair scattered itself on the soft pillow he was lying on. Throughout the morning he continuously slept, soft breaths departing from his lips every four seconds. While at the other end of the room, a gold-handled door slowly crept open as someone walked in.

Dressed in a maid’s attire, her long bangs partitioned to the side, a brunette-headed woman walked in elegantly, stepping on the design-filled carpet softly. With a straight, serious face, she looked around the room momentarily before walking toward the boy. Arriving next to him, a dark look flashed onto her face before she controlled herself. Then, she skillfully pulled her hands up and approached him as though she were going to gently shake him awake. Instead, with a light smile on her face, she grabbed onto his silk shirt and threw him off the bed.

With a heavy thud, the boy immediately awoke before looking towards the perpetrator of his sudden pain. A smile crept onto her face, and disgust flowed through her light brown eyes as she spoke to him with a deep undertone.

“Ozias, you know you can’t be sleeping now; you have much to do.”

Ozias looked at her with a clear despise as she continued.

“Well? What are you waiting for!?”

All of a sudden, one of her legs shot straight into his stomach, pushing him back several feet.

“Guahh!!”

With a strained gasp, he wrapped his hands around his stomach, saliva slowly falling from his mouth, attempting to breathe. Seconds later, the pain alleviated, and his closed throat opened, allowing him to breathe once again. Although he was full of rage after being assaulted, he stayed on the ground and looked up. Her deep brown eyes shone with a hint of satisfaction as she smiled.

“Alright, I expect you to finish your duties.”

Moments later, she walked out of the room with a cheer in her step, leaving the pain-filled Ozias.

The boy grasped onto the bed, using it to lift himself up with a stagger. He did not think much of the aggression, for in the past four months he had been here, this had been the norm. At first, it was light banter, but with time, it eventually became induced violence. Ozias initially looked past it, hoping it was only out of love. But he soon understood just how despicable these people were. He had only wanted to get used to this new environment and make friends in the manor. Maybe hanging out, doing tasks together, or going into the city and eating out. In the end, though, it became the opposite of what he hoped. Ozias knew why they did it though; they mostly did it to alleviate their pathetic lives working under someone. But in a small crevice of their soul, it was done because of the jealousy and hate they held. Ozias understood this and felt pity for them; all he wanted were companions with whom he could share his struggles.

With a small limp, he walked towards the door and stepped out. There, he found himself in a wide hallway with multiple rooms along it. After every couple of steps, a handcrafted window was placed, holding bright sunlight that pierced through it. On the floor, a red rug with various different patterns lay all along the hallway, giving it the aesthetic of a royal kingdom.

Without a second look, Ozias walked to the left, down the hallway, where he found himself on a large flight of stairs, leading to the first floor. He continued down the stairs before walking to a small room behind them. There, a small door creaked open, leading to a cramped living space.

For most of the time he had been in the manor, he spent his nights here. In the last two months though, something had changed—something that sent small chills down Ozias’s back.

In the corner of the room was a small pile of tattered clothes. The young boy walked to it before digging through the pile and pulling out a servant’s outfit. It was wrinkled and old, but it would work.

Slowly and steadily, Ozias pulled his current clothes off. He did it slowly in hopes he could avoid irritating the monstrous marks littered throughout his body. However, he was unsuccessful as small jolts of pain arose in him.

With his shirt off, one could see his pathetic state. Dark purple bruises battered his being as several bones were visible from malnutrition.

The boy then proceeded to put on his servant’s outfit before a bang resounded through the room, pushing the door open. It was a young butler who had kicked it open with no sense of respect. The butler stared at the boy with the same gaze the maid had held. Ozias noticed it yet did nothing as the young man spoke down to him.

“Go sweep the training grounds.”

Despite his hateful gaze, he did not harass Ozias, which was a surprise to him.

“I’m sorry? I thought that was what you did.

Before he could finish, the butler stomped towards Ozias but stopped because of the feminine voice that came from out of view.

“Come now; their arrival is near!”

Both Ozias and the butler knew this voice. Hearing it, Ozias twitched slightly; simultaneously, the butler quickly left, slamming the door in the process.

“Get it done. You don’t want to know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

It was the countess of the empire, considered her honor in the manor. She and the Count controlled a large portion of the territory that they oversaw, meaning they were essentially the gods ruling over this land.

For minutes, the boy attempted to calm himself; nevertheless, his palpitations did not stop; instead, they worsened. His vision shook as sweat formed on his head. But his duties took priority over his health, physical or mental. So the boy walked out anyway with the expectation of finishing quickly.

He traveled from the manor stationed at the center of the estate to the west wing, arriving at the training center. It consisted of multiple training dummies and fighting mats scattered around a large weapon shed. It took a majority of the estate’s total territory because of how instrumental strength is in the empire. And although the count and countess acted as though they were incredible. In reality, they were tiny in the grand scheme of this world and the empire. The only reason they still had the tag of count was because of their ancestors, who died millennia ago.

Ozias’s job here was to broom every single one of the ten training pads that spanned twenty feet by twenty feet.

Looking at them, large amounts of dust and dirt lay on top of every mat from multiple uses. Even worse was that two hundred feet away, two young boys were sparring while a broad-shouldered man watched them. Ozias also knew who they were. They were the young master’s or the countess’s children. The two of them were twins, each having jet-black hair and dark brown eyes. They were nine years old, the same age as Ozias. In this large manor, they were the only young children, which made the bullying from them even worse.

They darted back and forth on one of the training pads, fighting with wooden swords. Each step they took seemed deliberate, as though they were practicing certain motions.

He stared at them for a moment, admiring their fighting style. He’d love to watch for hours to absorb all that he could; nevertheless, he did not have that time. What he had to do now was finish his tasks, and there was no room for interruptions. He hurriedly swept one training platform after the other, increasingly getting closer to the two training young masters with time. Just as Ozias noticed them, the young masters eventually noticed Ozias, disdain filling their eyes the moment they did.

One of the twins looking at Ozias had an idea. He slowly crept towards him after getting permission from their instructor. He closed the distance before swinging his wooden sword down on Ozias. Luckily, Ozias noticed this deliberate act of hate and dodged the young master’s nefarious attack; unfortunately, he fell in the process and covered himself in dust due to it.

Ozias coughed as dust scattered through the air, irritating the young boy’s eyes.

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“Don’t dodge you cowardly bastard! Face me!”

He attempted to use the guise of a dual to hide his malicious intent. Of course, this was not a dual; it was a one-sided beating. Hell, Ozias did not even receive a sword to properly fight back!

Knowing this, he still decided to face him. It would be worse to run because then they would have an actual reason to beat on him. At least under this guise, he could properly defend himself.

Ozias stood up while the young master rubbed his eyes. Although he wanted to attack now, it could be seen as cowardly, so instead he assured his opponent.

“Do you wish to dual, young master?”

Although he would rather not have a fight with him, this was the only way to get out of this; he had learned it the hard way. The young master stepped away from the cloud of dust before responding with absolute confidence.

“Yes! Let us dual.”

Anticipation mixed with joy could be heard in the young master’s voice while preparing. On the other training platform, both the second young master and the training instructor noticed the commotion the two had caused.

Ozias positioned himself on one side of the platform while the young master went to the other.

With near-silent steps, the instructor walked over to the two of them before speaking to the young master.

“If you two are dueling, then I shall judge!”

The instructor smiled as he folded his arms, keeping a keen eye on Ozias.

He was most definitely making sure nothing happened to the young master because it would be his head if anything horrible were to occur.

From the end of the platform, Ozias prepared himself by gripping the broom like a sword. Although it was different, he could still use it similarly by holding the long pole up like a sword, at least as the head of the broom pointed down towards the ground.

Ozias gripped the broom hard and looked up at the young master as his heart pumped fast.

From the middle end of the platform, the instructor yelled.

“Begin!”

The young master sprinted forward as Ozias stepped forward and stomped his feet onto the ground. Then, just as before, the young master pulled his sword high into the air before pulling it down. And just as before, Ozias dodged it. However, this time, as though it had been instilled hard into his body, Ozias pulled his sword up before angling it slightly, using the young master’s own force to propel his sword down to the ground, hitting nothing but dirt. Feeling the unbreakable shell of the ground, the young master’s hands shook as pain traveled from his finger’s up to his arm. Seizing the opportunity, MC positioned himself as memories flooded his head. He had been taught since seven the way of the sword. His now-deceased father was the one who would constantly train him. Every early day, while the morning dew was still forming and as the sun rose to greet them in front of their small home, he would train with him and teach him. Thinking of it now, a feeling of sorrow and hate filled his heart. Since the moment he had arrived here, he had kept this feeling dug deep into his soul. Now though, instead of holding onto this feeling, he directed it to his wooden broom, sliding to the side and preparing to attack!

Seeing this, the instructor saw this as a great opportunity to train the young master. The broad-shouldered man yelled, alerting the young master.

“Block it! He’s preparing!!”

He jumped slightly from the loud voice, gathering himself, despise transferring from his heart to his sword!

‘To think! This swine!!’

In an act of need, the young master pulled his sword up, enduring the pain radiating in his hands. With swift eyes, the young master located Ozias’s sword and guessed where it would hit before pulling his sword up to block it. Moments later, a hard "Thwak!!” burst through the environment as the young master guessed correctly. However, the hit pushed him back several feet, and he nearly dropped his weapon from the sheer pain. However, it was even worse for Ozias; a harsh force surged through his broom to his hands as splinters dug into them from the unpolished broom handle.

Yet even though the pain he was feeling was much to bear for a child, he smiled. His heart raged like a horse as sweat punctured his dark gold eyes. They lit in a reddish hue as the sun beamed down onto the two of them.

Both ready to attack once again, they charged towards the other with only the thought of winning implanted in their heads. They ran and arrived next to each other before they both mindlessly swung. Although they had years of training, in the face of a true fight, it had all vanished before them as differing feelings emerged in their bodies.

With another "Thwak!!” they were both pushed back, however! Instead of preparing himself once again, Ozias fought through the force of their hit and rushed in even further, pushing through the recoil and catching the young master off guard.

Still being pushed back from their prior hit, the young master was completely vulnerable as those golden blood-filled eyes approached. Knowing he could do nothing, he shut his eyes and prayed. While Ozias developed a crazed look in his eyes, in front of him was one of the people who had caused him constant struggle. And he was also the son of the person directly responsible for the death of their family! Next to him, blood lust flooded the boy’s eyes as he swung his broom towards the young master’s head! He had the sole goal of killing the young master in this one blow!!

From the sidelines, though, the instructor stepped in. At one moment, he seemed like a strong middle-aged man, yet at the next, he seemed like an unrecognizable figure! Strange, tangly energy flew from his body as the air around him shifted! He stepped once, yet seemed to move a thousand steps as he pulled directly in front of the two young fighting children.

With his wooden sword in hand, he swatted Ozias away as though he were a fly that needed to be killed.

Moments before, Ozias had noticed the weird shift in energy. He was familiar with it; each and every morning when training with his father, he would use his energy and train him with it. However, in comparison to his father, the instructor seemed to be a god that overwhelmed everything!

With one clean sweep, he swung his sword and smashed through the broom before making contact with Ozias’s chest! Shards of wood flew through the air while the instructor’s sword crushed multiple of Ozias’s bones, leaving a large imprint on his chest.

The boy soared through the air after the hit, where he was thrown onto another training platform. He made contact with it before rolling even further.

From a glance, it would be hard to tell if he was alive. Even the instructor did not know, but before he could care about Ozias, he had to care for the young master.

“Young master, are you okay?”

Tears built in the young master’s eyes as he sought to stay strong, although it was of no use as tears still fell from his blurry eyes.

“It’s okay. You did great out there! Although we need to remember to keep using the techniques we learn to ensure we can properly defeat our victims.”

The instructor used this as an opportunity to teach the young master, ignoring Ozias’s struggling body several feet away. They soon left, leaving him alone.

Collapsed on the ground, blood pouring out of his mouth, Ozias stayed motionless, seemingly unconscious.

Time passed as the sun began to set, while deep, dark clouds passed over the once bright sky, releasing the moisture they held.

Water droplets rained down onto the earth as every plant and tree quenched their thirst. With their roots, they held dearly onto the pour of water seeping into the ground with all they had. Every living thing wanted to live and to do so, they needed their proper life-giving nourishment. Those that rejected it would soon find themselves dead.

On the training grounds, small puddles formed along the divots between different platforms.

With each drop, Ozias slowly shook into reality to witness the near-black clouds blocking the setting sun. He knew the punishments awaiting in the manor. Not only had he not completed his tasks, he had been gone the entire day.

With a heavy groan, he slowly attempted to stand; however, a heavy pain went through his chest as he collapsed once again. It was a near-killing hit. The world watched in surprise, thinking he was dead. Only he knew though, that he could not die. Not yet.

With newfound strength, he attempted to stand up once again. And with a heavy struggle, he staggered up. Cool bursts of water relaxed as the once-dried blood around his mouth became moist. Wiping it, Ozias’s eyes glinted with a hatred rarely seen in children as he limped to the manor at a slow pace.

With each trudge he took, hate grew in his heart, fueling his dying body to continue.

Every living being stood in silence, seeing the struggling boy. They also saw his heavy determination culminating in his golden eyes.

He continuously walked, arriving at the front of the estate, seeing the countess standing under an umbrella with countless servants around her, watching for her every need.

Her nightly hair tailed down her sky-blue dress as she stood, watching.

Where she was looking, two horses pulled along a caged carriage towards them. Inside the cage was a young boy, similar in appearance to Ozias. He also had gold hair with blue eyes, however, something seemed different. It felt as though his gold hair was dim, stiff, and rough.

From the side, the countess smiled with a light blush on her face as she spoke to servants. From far away, he could not hear what she was saying but knew what was happening.

It was only a matter of time before it occurred; since his very first day, he knew. Ozias turned around and entered through a side door, trying not to see anyone. Not only could he not handle anything more, but he also looked horrendous, which would bring even more harassment. Inside, he trudged towards his room, but every step he took stained the carpet’s inside a muddy red color. He continued anyway; currently, all he wanted to do was rest; that was what he absolutely needed.

After a short time, he arrived in front of his small, cramped room. Without a second thought, he walked in and removed his drenched clothes. Under them, a deep slash made its presence known. On his chest, there was a dent where he had been hit earlier. Luckily, it did not spur blood as it had not broken skin. Surely, though, inside his body, he was bleeding horrifically. It was a surprise that he was not dead. Just by moving, he could tell that the bones had shattered, yet they somehow did not manage to pierce any important organs that would have killed him. Many would have considered it an intervention from a god; however, Ozias viewed it differently. He realized the gods wanted him to suffer more, as though he had not gone through enough pain.

With staggering steps, Ozias looked through his supplies and found bandages to try and patch his wound with.

Carefully, for the next thirty minutes, through pain and torture, he was able to wrap himself in them, although they would not do much.

Afterward, he stepped back and delicately laid down on the rough, old bed. To survive, he needed rest, which was the only thing he had access to currently.

But he could not have even that. Moments after lying down, his door banged open as the same butler that had entered earlier was here again. He stepped into the cramped room before speaking to him.

“The countess would like to see you now.”

Ozias looked at him blankly as he meticulously stood up.

“Okay… Thank you for alerting me.”

He slowly walked past the young butler with a limp while wearing his silk shirt. The butler looked at him with disgust as he walked to her quarters.

Up the stairs and down the hallway, just as before, Ozias found himself in front of her bedroom. He knocked lightly as his body shivered. A moment later, a female servant opened it, welcoming him in.

Anxiously, he stepped in and looked towards the large bed, where he saw the countess. Her long, nightly dark hair hung down her perfectly shaped body. Every strand covered her perky privates, leaving most unsatisfied. Under her hair, she wore a see-through silk nightgown that comfortably fit her figure.

She had a light blush as she smiled, her gaze filled with lust, looking at Ozias. She had light makeup on, which, when accompanied by the soft lighting in the room, made her look beautiful, entrapping most who would look into her bright brown eyes.

“Come, join me. It is quite cold tonight. Let us embrace each other one final time.”

Ozias knew what this meant. She had used this excuse many times to get him here, where she could do as she pleased. But even though he knew this, he could do nothing against her.

She walked over to him before wrapping her arms around him. Her semi-long nails carefully gripped Ozias as she dragged him to the bed. He remained still for a moment, wanting to resist, scream, and flail for help, yet he could not. The servants here would kill him with any sudden movements. All he could do was comply with her request.

Just as today, it had happened months ago as well, when he had lost his chastity to her. At the age of nine, two months ago, she abused him for the first time. And today, they would perform the same act they had done months ago, without the consent of Ozias.