Shirei stood there watching the temporal rift open completely with a deafening crash. The noise tore through the air like a throbbing wound in the fabric of time. The monsters, mostly medium-sized orcs and goblins, poured out, emitting guttural, ungainly screams.

Cragar's son was illuminated by the light of the first sun.

He stood at the entrance of the rift, his calm gaze fixed on the advancing enemies. He extended the fingers of his right hand with the intention of summoning the Blade of Discord from the Interworld. Beside him, Reno raised his head with a frown.

Do we have to face them all with just the two of us?

Shirei turned to look at the tenebrae and heard his voice vibrate in his head. It was the first time he had experienced this bizarre phenomenon, but he immediately assumed that it must be something special.

Reno was the first tenebrae he had generated from a conscious being, so he must have managed to preserve his soul within his new body.

Was it possible that he could communicate telepathically with all the tenebrae?

Not to rush you, but they'll be upon us soon.

The demigod ignored the voice of his dark collaborator and continued to follow that flow of thought. He realized he was clueless about his powers. He was already aware of it, to tell the truth, but the frantic need to train in combat had forced him to put that problem aside.

Before his eyes, he saw the moments spent at Cragar Castle reappear, when his father used to visit him to see how he was doing.

He blamed himself for not being more curious at the time.

The god of the dead was a rather silent being, so words didn't exactly flow from his mouth with ease. The only thing he had continued to repeat to him until his death was that he had to become stronger, using every means possible.

What it needed to improve remained a mystery, but Shirei was beginning to believe that the phantom conflict with the ‘Ancient’ had to be centered in some way.

Once again, his missing memories only posed a problem. That situation was becoming increasingly untenable.

Can we focus on the monsters that are coming?

Shirei blinked, “Yes.”

The demigod dispatched his harpies, who materialized in a semicircle around him. Mentally, he instructed them to organize themselves into a flock and use their wings to attack the monsters, but to return to the sky before being captured.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He had to do control their taken damage to make sure his god particle didn't suddenly empty itself in the middle of the fight.

The tenebrae followed his orders to the letter and Shirei took the opportunity to look in the direction of the refuge where his companions resided.

With a grimace, he realized his mistake and sent two of the harpies towards the abandoned house. He didn't want to risk some monsters breaking in.

I can even go wake them up if you want, Reno said.

“No, the harpies will do it.”

As you prefer.

The two remained staring at the horde of creatures now terribly close. Shirei tried to give their number roughly, somewhere between one hundred and two hundred.

Do you seriously think you can beat them alone?

Shirei did not respond and called upon the Blade of Discord from the Interworld. The tenebrae got the message and tilted its head, after all Cragar's son had done the same thing the previous day. One against a hundred didn't seem like such an impossible fight.

Without waiting any longer, Shirei rushed towards the creatures with the intention of immediately wreaking havoc on their ranks.

“Reno, what are your powers?”

The tenebrae followed the demigod, “Can we focus on the enemies, please?” He wanted to avoid ending up like the previous day.

“Your powers,” the purple-eyed boy repeated.

Before Reno responded, three orcs had fallen to the ground, their bodies already beginning to disintegrate.

“So, let's see... I can sing.”

Shirei dodged an orc's vertical attack to the side. The club stuck in the ground, allowing the demigod to use it as a support. He darted forward and placed one foot on the weapon, the second on the enemy's arm, and channeled his mana into a kick aimed at the creature's face.

The orc fell to the ground with his helmet pressed against his skin.

“I get that, can you be more specific?”

A second orc charged him into his blind spot but, at the last, stumbled upon the body of a fallen comrade.

Shirei saw the scene and his mouth curled downwards.

He couldn't focus on the battle if he had Reno's voice in his head, he had to find a way to block it out as soon as possible.

He wondered if, by generating more tenebrae in the future, that same bond would overlap with the other dark creatures.

My head would explode.

Hey, should I tell you what I can do or not?

Cragar's son stabbed a goblin in the abdomen, “Yes, be quick.”

The orcs attacked en masse from all directions, forcing him to temporarily disappear into the Interworld.

“My singing can have various effects, let's say like those of a role-playing game.”

Some figurative images began to condense in the mind of Cragar's son, distracting his concentration on the place from which to emerge again. Shirei saw Reno, not in his tenebrae robes but with his demigod body, praising his mother and being encased in a whirlwind of luminous words written in cursive. He couldn't read what it meant, but they seemed familiar somehow.

“I can sing a song of healing,” the creature said as the image of light green mist appeared before Shirei. Although it was only his imagination, the demigod swore that he could feel a certain freshness spreading through the air from the fog.

"I can also tire enemies," this time the fog took on a reddish color and branched out in multiple directions. Some orcs, figments of Reno's vengeful imagination, were engulfed in gas and dropped their weapons to the ground, then walked like zombies.

"I can give you strength, or speed, or protection. I can also give you more energy," the third image showed a blue mist heading straight for Cragar's son.

Shirei felt it, a feeling of lightness he hadn't enjoyed in a long time. Due to continuous training, it never happened that he managed to have more than one day to recover from lost tiredness. He didn't think he needed rest given his semi-divine body, but maybe he was wrong.

“Lastly, I can use a ‘Concerto’.”