Chapter 001: Lethe

Shhh!

Shhh!

Shhh!

Lethe swung his broom with all his might, striking the worn scarecrow repeatedly until it fell apart in a mess of hay and tattered clothes. His heart raced as he reveled in the feel of the broom slicing through the air. Sweat dripped down his face and onto his ragged clothes, but he refused to stop until he had exhausted himself completely.

A young man that can captivate anyone just by staring at his blue eyes. His skin was whiter and smoother than jade, and it never darkened even though working for a whole day, basking under the heavy sunlight. The years of training were evident from his well-built body. It could be comparable to soldiers trained for war.

"Aren't you getting tired of this? You've been brandishing your broom for hours. I already feel pity on that poor scarecrow."

Boredom was evident in Stevan as he watched his brother during his so-called 'Training period.'

Lethe stopped momentarily, gasping for air as if he would faint any time from now. Sweat covered his body, and his eyes showed how tired he was. Lethe brushed his light brown hair and proceeded to hold his broom tighter.

"I agreed that I'll accompany you in your entrance exams, remember? Wait under that shade for another hour, and I'll wrap things up."

Life is fair, a gift, and everyone should cherish it and convert negativities into positive energies. If anyone said those words, Lethe would surely beat them to a pulp. Fate was harsh the moment Lethe was born. His parents left him in the woods and were lucky enough that someone saw him that day. For anyone, that was luck. For Lethe, it was a misfortune.

Lethe and Stevan weren't brothers in blood but shared the same fate. It was a bond stronger than familial bindings. Lethe grew up mistreated. They left him to sleep on the cold floors as an infant while they enjoyed the soft bed. Growing up, the only meal he could get was a piece of bread and water. People forced him to overwork to pay for the debts of the ones who adopted him.

Unlike Stevan, Lethe suffered from the judging stares of everyone. There wasn't a single hint of mana radiating from his body. People said that Lethe was a curse brought by the heavens and considered a bad omen. He also gained an unfortunate title, 'the walking bad luck.' Eventually, everybody avoided talking to him or even exchanging glances.

Lethe had been practicing his combat skills for years, determined to hone his body to compensate for his lack of mana. With no magical abilities to rely on, he could only think of strengthening his physical prowess to pay for the disadvantage. Others felt he would die young because humans would instantly die after draining all of their mana. Yet, he still lives with a healthy body. That's how strange and unique his case was.

"If only I weren't different from everyone, then surely I could also enter the academy."

The only thing that kept him alive was his undying dream of becoming a monarch. A ruler that would bring peace so that people wouldn't experience the miserable life he is dealing with now. And reshaping the structure and order of the territory he would soon rule, or so he thought.

However, his dream is a blow to the moon. A raging fire in the middle of the sea waiting to be eaten by giant waves. People can only be ruled over by those at the top of the food chain. In other words, he needs the power to realize his dreams.

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And yet, that is another hundred-to-one possibility. Beings possessing the ability to manipulate arcane magic rule the world inhabited by Lethe. Within this world, not only the citizens of cities and empires but also merchants who engage in trade and soldiers and masters who specialize in hand-to-hand combat can use this magical power.

To control the arcane, you need mana. That's what Lethe lacked.

Stevan suddenly stood up while dusting off his pants.

"I'll tell Garb that we finished cleaning this area. I'll also bring water on my way back here. Be sure to be done when I return."

Lethe nodded, watching as Stevan walked away. He looked up at the sky, feeling the sun's warmth on his face. He took a deep breath and picked up his broom again. He knew he couldn't give up on his dream, no matter how difficult it may seem.

Lethe brandished his sword until he was out of breath. He stopped momentarily and gave the scarecrow one final complete power hit. The tip of his broom landed on the left shoulder of the scarecrow and passed through its body. A powerful aura emanated from Lethe's body when the broom cut the scarecrow in half.

"What was that!"

Lethe was stunned by the power that had surged through him. He stared at the broken scarecrow before him, wondering how it had happened. He had been practicing for years but had never felt such a surge of energy.

He suddenly heard footsteps approaching as he stood there, trying to catch his breath. He turned around to see a group of people staring at him in shock. They had felt the surge of energy and had come to investigate.

One of them, an older man with a long white beard, stepped forward and looked at Lethe with awe and suspicion. "What happened here?" he asked, his voice gruff. "We felt a powerful aura and came to investigate."

He was Sable, the former chief of the village Strawdog. Sable was wearing a piece of plain clothing and a white scarf. The color of the scarf tells that he’s above the working class in Strawdog Village. It’s a weird way to visualize social stratification. Lethe hesitated, unsure of how to explain what had happened. He had always been an outcast and didn't want to draw more attention to himself. But looking at the broken scarecrow, he knew he couldn't hide the truth.

"I don't know," he said, "I was practicing with my broom, and... this happened." He gestured to the broken scarecrow.

The group of people looked at each other, murmuring among themselves. Lethe could see the suspicion in their eyes and knew he was in trouble. He had always been an outcast. Now they would think he brought them misfortune again.

But then, to his surprise, Sable stepped forward and placed a hand on Lethe's shoulder. "I believe you," he said, his voice kind. "There is something special about you, Lethe. I can feel it."

"Come with us," the old man said, gesturing to the rest of the group. "We will take you to a place where you can learn to harness your power. A place where you can become the monarch you were meant to be."

Lethe couldn't help but feel uneasy about Sable’s sudden offer. He had always been cautious around strangers, especially those who appeared too eager to help him. However, he doesn’t have the choice to decline the offer. Lethe hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded. He knew that following the group would cause him harm, but refusing would bring a sudden death.

As they ventured further into the woods, Lethe's unease grew. He eyed the old man warily and asked, "Where are we going exactly?"

Sable turned to Lethe with a sly smile on his face. "We're almost there," he said.

Lethe's heart sank. Lethe had a bad feeling about this. "Almost where?" he asked.

"You'll see soon enough," the old man replied cryptically.

Lethe looked around. He felt something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He tried to keep his wits about him and keep his guard up.

After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at a clearing deep in the woods. The old man turned to face the group and said, "This is it."

The group murmured amongst themselves, looking around the clearing. Lethe noticed no trees around them, only tall grass and a few rocks. There were also visible marks of corruption beneath the cracking of the dry land.

Suddenly, Lethe felt a surge of power coursing through his body. He looked around, trying to find the source of the power surge, but he couldn't see anything. The old man noticed Lethe's confusion and said, "Don't worry, it's just the mana in the area. It's quite strong here."

Lethe nodded, still feeling uneasy. He knew that there was no such place near Strawdog Village that had an area with a dense concentration of mana. And even if there is such a place. It shouldn’t be here since this place doesn’t have mana. It’s like a different world within a world where this tiny space has other natural laws. He knew Sable was hiding something from him, but he couldn't be sure.

Sable stared directly at Lethe, a smirk spreading across his face. "We may not have your youth, but we possess something you don't: power." The group murmured in agreement, making Lethe feel outnumbered and uneasy.

Suddenly, another man yelled, "You cursed us to bear this burden!"

Sable raised his hand to silence the group.

"I know you're responsible for the energy surge we felt earlier," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Now, give us back the stolen artifact."

Lethe was unfazed this time since he had learned to anticipate such confrontations. However, what struck him most was the mention of a stolen artifact. He wracked his brain, trying to recall any unusual activity in the village, but he had been tasked with cleaning the southern part all day and had not heard of any thefts. The thought of something important being taken a right under his nose made him feel helpless and frustrated.

“Give the artifact back, and we can just let you go in exchange for working as an errand boy back in the village.”

“And what if I don’t have any artifact to give?” Lethe prepared the stance he was nurturing since day 1.

The group of men laughed just by looking at him.

“What are you going to do? Dance for us?! Hahahaha”

Sable strolled and held his hand up again, which silenced the men.

“We’ll offer you to the Gods to quench their anger. It is right to offer the one who made Strawdog Village a laughing stock nearby.”