The morning light disturbs my sleep, and I open my eyes. As always, a nasty scent greets me. The scent from me and the trash around me. I was lying on my chest, my face buried into the trash. I roll over onto my back, and stared into the sky.

The smell of something disgusting enters my nose, as I was covered in some viscous green muck. It’s not new since it’s just a daily occurrence, the price for living in the slums.

I place my palms on the ground and push off, raising my upper body. It hurt quite a bit. Yesterday’s beating took quite a toll on me, since I could feel all the bruises, hurting and restricting my movement.

I take off the shirt, no, the rag that I wore, and checked my torso.

A large blue contusion greets me, my chest covered with it. My body ached from even slightly moving it. I gently poked one of the purple marks from among the huge blue mass, and pain flashes through my chest. My body was skinny, to the extent of being malnourished. My ribs peeked through my paper like skin, and my skinny legs were like toothpicks. My cheeks were hollowed in, and my lips were cracked. It’s a wonder I haven’t starved to death yet. The people from the ‘Church’ occasionally bring by food, and one of the sisters from there always gives me a bowl, since I’m not even allowed to approach the place. That sister is a nice person. I have to repay her one day.

I weakly get up, onto my feet, and crouch down, waiting for the pain to pass. Then slowly, bit by bit, I raise myself, the pain coursing through my body every time I move.

Somehow, I stood up, and took my first step. I need to head to the Food distribution. It is my sole lifeline here.

I look up, and gasp.

There was someone standing there. A woman. Her long blonde hair hung behind her, and a white cloth covered her face, right up to her straight nose. Her azure eyes stared into mine, cold and lifeless. She wore an odd set of clothes, half a shirt concealing her voluptuous body, and thin white pants which stuck onto her legs. Her navel was completely exposed, showing off her mesmerizing body.

And she stood there. Just stood there. How long was she here? She keeps staring at me, as if waiting for me to reply. Is this someone who was sent to observe me? Take me away again? Those researcher bastards. Can’t they just leave me alone? But right now, I need to confirm her identity.

“Wh-Who?”

Life snaps into her eyes, as she suddenly blinks, and her eyes immediately zone onto my face. They quickly looked me over as if it were a checkup. It made me feel uncomfortable, for some reason. A lady staring at the body of a half naked young boy. That’s just unnatural.

She keeps staring at me with her lively eyes.

“Who are y-you?”

My hoarse voice leaks out, and I unintentionally stutter, since the only words I had spoken for a long time were the thanks I once offered to the nice sister who gave me food.

She stares at me for a while longer, and then without a shred of warning, she goes down on one knee.

“Nexus Ellris Zoltive, we are Pegasus, the faithful servant of thine ancestor, his majesty Neeram Ellris Zoltive. We have come to meet thou”

Eh. What did she just say? Ellris? Zoltive? What’s that? My ancestor? She speaks in a really weird way. Neeram? I have heard that name though.

The existence of pure terror, who made all of the world tremble in fear with only his raw power. The Demon Lord, Neeram Zoltive.

I do know that my last name is Zoltive. But even the same middle name? That’s impossible.

In this world, the first name identifies the person, the last name identifies the family, and the middle name identifies the branch family that the person belongs to. Most people don’t even have a middle name. This person, she made a mistake.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong person”

“It is not so. For thine black hair and fiery eyes are without doubt the same as that of our master’s, Neeram’s.”

Her words pissed me off. Black hair? Fiery eyes? Who gives a shit! They have been nothing but a curse for me, and until now, they have only brought me misfortune.

I walk off, limping away. I ignored the woman. She doesn’t get up, and stays on one knee.

That said, why are you following me?!

I walk into the slums, taking a roundabout way to get to the food distribution. That woman keeps following me around, showing no intention whatsoever to stop.

Irritating. All this time passed after I was thrown away, and one day, a person who served the Demon Lordappears? As if. Get a cover story that seems believable, at least.

The surroundings in the clearing noisy as usual, with people running around, trying to get even one more serving of food. The Food distribution. I eagerly head over there for it was the only thing that had ensured my survival in this place.

I reach the clearing, that annoying woman still behind me. I keep heading in, and steer off to the side, heading into a side street. The rendezvous point for me and the sister. When I get there, I see her. An angel stood there, with a white bowl in her hand.

The sister was a young woman, around 18 years old. She wore a long white robe, along with an animal eared hood covering her head. The standard robes for people from the church. I head over to her.

She looks up when I get there, her green eyes zoning in on me. Locks of green hair escape from the hood, and freckles cover her face. But to me, she’s nothing less than an angel. She hands me the bowl, just like always.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Nexus? Who’s that?”

“Don’t know”

I don’t pay any attention to the woman, and wolf down on the stew before me. It’s tasteless and stale. But for me, it is nothing less than the most delicious cuisine on earth.

The sister walks off patting my head saying ‘Eat up and Grow healthy’. Truly, what a nice person.

I wipe the bowl clean with my tongue and set it down in a corner of the table they used for the Food distribution. I walked off quickly nervousness grasping my heart. It’d be bad if someone spotted me after all. I quickly head into the winding streets of the slums, nervous about the possibility that the situation would worsen by a stroke of bad luck.

This woman, she’s persistent. Even now, she’s following me. Argh! So annoying.

I head deeper into the streets, using one of my secret routes.

Almost. Almost at the exit when—

“Oi, fake royal? Are you running away?”

Fear grasps my heart. I freeze, unable to move. Shit. They found me. Just like yesterday, no, just like everyday, these people found me. They find me, corner me, and humiliate me.

I hate it.

Every moment of this life. Everytime this happens. My own bad luck, my helplessness, and my lack of strength.

They walk closer, and I could hear their footsteps. Every time, it’s like this. I can’t do anything at all.

An arm slings around my shoulder, and that disgusting voice reaches my ear. I wanted to cringe away, but I couldn't.

“Oi, fake. Who’s the hottie?”

“I…. I don’t know”

Shit. That woman. She didn’t leave! Damn it.

“You don’t? Then is she open to all?”

He begins whispering vulgar things in my ear. I can do nothing but clench my fist, since even now, I’m completely at their mercy.

He takes off his arm, and pushes me away. I collapse, and just lay there, unmoving. That’s right. This is what’s best. It’s her fault for following after me. This is the rule of the slums. Everything goes. I’m sorry, but in order to survive, I’ll have to use you as a sacrifice.

But. But.

“Oii lady. Why are you following this guy around ? He’s nothing but a useless bag of shit you know? Why don’t you come along with me? I can show you a much better time. You know, in bed~!”

He starts talking to her. I can feel the lust in his voice, his belief in his own strength. Shit. I hate it.

I crawl away, since it’s her trouble for now. Fuck pride, fuck justice. This is what it takes to survive. In this world, this is the way one survives.

Inch by inch, I move away, leaving the woman in peril. Damn it. It doesn’t feel good. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. My stomach is swirling around. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

This is right. This is what’s right. In this world, in this hell of a world, a weakling like me only has the choice to run away like a cockroach. That’s right. This is what’s right.

And yet. And yet. Why? Why ? Why am I running? Why am I running, not away from them, but towards them?

Why am I throwing a punch at his face? Why? It only gets me in more trouble! Why!

Haaah… It’s too late already. My fate is sealed. Might as well see it through to the end.

“DERRRYAAAAHH!!!”

The 4th of Moonshadow. A beautiful morning, with birds chirping, delighted by the clear sky. A perfect day for people to go and enjoy themselves.

But quite a few miles away, in the slums of a kingdom, a yell resounds.

A yell filled with fighting spirit.

A boy, who looked about 14 years old, with a body made of bones, shouted his throat out, as he swung his fist into the face of the man standing before him. In the boy’s  face, despair and fear raged. But, in his fiery red eyes, a strange determination burned.

The punch left the large man staggering, but the boy howled in pain. His arm had popped out of its socket from just throwing a punch. He collapsed onto the ground, clutching his shoulder. The large man regained his balance, and threw a punch into the boy’s face, sending him flying. He crashed into a wall and collapsed, gasping for air. The two other men ran up to him, and began kicking and stomping him, making the youth yell in pain.

The man walked up to the boy.

“You should have just ran away, you fake fuck”

He cracks his neck, preparing for the execution he was about to deliver to the boy. As he neared the body of the boy,--

“Stop”

A voice resounded. The voice of a female’s, a voice which made one feel like they were freezing in hell.

The voice came from a woman, who stood a bit away, a white cloth covering her face.

Her azure eyes were filled with inexplicable joy, but her voice was filled with an enormous amount of coldness and killing intent.

The three men froze from terror, their bodies unable to move.

It was all too fast.

Within a moment, the woman wiped the three burly men out throwing them away as if they were rag dolls.

She walked towards the boy, her steps long and graceful.

“Who, no Wh-wha-what are you?”

The boy asked, feeling fear and admiration for the strong being in front of him.

“Oh great Demon Lord, we have come for thee”