The sun dazzled my eyes, heating the entire summer like an oven. I already had my white shirt unbuttoned. However, Roason Howi was less open about it than me. No matter how hot the weather was, he would not unfasten a single button.

"There's no way you are going to walk around like this, man," Roason joked while using the vending machine.

"The school only said we need to have our uniforms on." I pointed at my white shirt and dark khakis with flat hands. My beige-skinned abs glistened.

"Just don't let others see you like this, alright? If Kiina heard about it, she might think I do the same."

"Kiina? Who cares about what she thinks? I can't believe she's coming to our class next term! Her control over her magic is so wacky and her thaumaturgy is so weak. I am telling you, she will be killed by a goblin right after graduation—"

"You don't need to make everything about grade and skill, okay? Before we are mages, we are first humans."

I was not sure why, but this scene was the first thing I dreamt of after losing my left arm, nose, and upper lip. I just went through it again on my sofa. I was not supposed to be doing this, yet I just did not feel like going to my discharge ceremony. I reached my remaining hand out into the darkness, grasping nothing. The light had been off for five days already. They were not needed anyway.

I turned on my television, trying to distract myself. Conversely, I ran into a biography of myself, Ice Shaker, the hero who… Whatever…

I closed my eyes and re-opened them. I stared at my old self shining in the screen: the purple capelet outside my glinting jacket and white undershirt, my signature symbol of a dragon, and the leather mask wrapped around the lower half of my face… That mask would not even hold without a nose now.

Fuck.

I shut my eyes again. The reporter's voice filled my empty mind:

"With his teleportation and explosion thaumaturgy triggered by clapping, Ice Shaker was once considered to be the next strongest hero of this century after the legendary Lord Ky."

A smirk was my only response to the report. Clenching my right hand, I repeated, "Clapping. Ha. Clapping." Out of everything they could introduce about me, they just had to choose the one thing I could no longer do. Why did they not mention I was in the elite class in the mage academy? Why did they not mention my magic missile accuracy was 98%? These damn, magicless bastards did not know how to fucking appreciate a genius.

I smashed my fist on the soft couch and hurled a raw blast of magic toward the television. A bolt of magic gushed out of my palm, crushing the screen into debris and causing a small pop in the machine.

What the fuck was I thinking? A genius? I was just a clown. The next strongest hero of this century? No, I, I...

I palmed my face with my remaining hand, aching my flat nostrils. I wanted this pain. I fucking wanted to feel it. All my future and past vanished just for this damn pain on my face.

Fuck.

Not sure how long after, the doorbell chimed. I rolled off my couch and trudged toward it in the dark. Holding the knob, I hesitated. Which bastard was outside my house? I sighed and shut my eyes as I opened the door. The sunlight kept my eyes closed.

"Tale Nost," the man before me called me by my real name. Judging by the name, I realized it was Roason Howi, who had never caught up with my score.

"Yeah," I replied as I squinted my eyes. He was wearing his iconic white polo shirt that had its upper left part made of linen. His jeans and curly uppercut were as mediocre as any other man, just like his skill in magic.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he stepped closer, attempting to enter my house. I just stared at him with my eyes painted in annoyance. I knew why he was here. I fucking knew.

A frown of confusion formed and disappeared on his visage. I could only see pity on his face, and I did not need that.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"You did not go to the discharge ceremony," I said.

"You never liked any ceremony, so I just come straight to you." Roason pretended to know me.

I replied calmly with my voice slowly rising, "I don't need your fucking pity. My aim is still better than yours. My MMA (magic manipulation accuracy) is still higher. My—"

"Please forgive yourself," he interrupted me with a soft voice, "The same thing has happened to many people. It is not your fault. Accidents happen to heroes all the time. Losing limbs to villains is nothing uncommon. No one's free from it."

A scowl formed between my brows. The muscle around my nostrils twitched so hard that it ached again. "Forgive myself?" I puffed out a wry smile, "I know all along it's your fault. It's all you weaklings' fault." I jabbed my finger on his chest as my voice shook in rage, "None of you weaklings deserve my sacrifice. None of you losers are worth one-tenth of what I got." I drew my hand back and stepped forward. He stepped down my door stoop in response.

I continued, "Forgive myself? I will never forgive you, every one of you."

For a moment, Roason just stood there with his facial expression paused. His startled eyes then glared at me. "Why do you have to be like this? Can't you for once shut up about how talented you are? You've been yapping about it for fucking ten years! And you are still repeating the same thing after losing your damn thaumaturgy!" He pushed me in the shoulders, and I slumped back into my house, back into my shadow.

Sights of wrath met in midair. With tears gliding off his cheeks, Roason dropped his one last line, "I'm done with your bullshit, loser."

As he walked away, I got up from the floor and had my last glance at him. Closing the door, I murmured, "Weakling."

I could not really remember what had happened in the next two weeks. The oatmeal boxes in the cabinets were now on the ground. The trash cans gave a strong odor with all the rotten apples-and-all, and other expired food waste. There was probably some vomit in them as well. My phone was charged with the last spare charger I had. The two other ones were covered in bites and were already torn. The remaining tissue box had its last three draws left while wads of tissues were scattered on the floor and formed a mountain in the corner next to my television.

I shuffled into the bathroom after heaving myself up from my sofa. I reached my mouth under the faucet and switched it on. Yet, no water came out. When had the water stopped? With fear, I glanced at the toilet. At least, it was not full of shit… Oh, the shit was in the tub.

Without surprise, I realized I had not paid my water bill.

With surprise, I realized the compensation did not reach my account. My phone said the Sovereign Agency had intercepted the transaction from the Hero Union. What the fuck?

I opened my wardrobe after calling the agency three times without receiving a reply. After some hesitation, I tossed my decade-old jacket to the ground. A white T-shirt was what I ended up wearing when I exited my house. Even Roason's polo was better than this shirt.

Although my face mask never fell off, I occasionally pulled it upward as I walked along the street. I noticed a few passersby glancing in my direction. It was not hard to tell what they were looking at. It was fucking easy to know what those magicless bastards were looking at.

I clenched my remaining fist and hastened my pace.

The Sovereign Agency's HQ was quite fancy. It was a six-story building with black, metallic pilasters fixed along the wall. The giant, gold signage of "Sovereign" hung on the pilasters, gleaming under the bright sun.

I told its receptionists my name, and they immediately led me to a waiting room on the second floor. I did not even tell them what happened. The waiting room contained a short, rounded table and two small couches across it. Pulling up my face mask again, I sat down and rested my hand on my lap.

For a moment, my only company in the room became the air cleaner's low-pitch mumbling. The vibe would be much better if there was a window, but who was I to complain? The air here was a dozen times better than my chicken lair's already.

The waiting room's door was soon opened. Out of my expectations, Lord Ky entered the room. He was an old man with deeply suntanned skin and huge dreadlocks surrounding his head like a mane. His physique was the type stronger and bigger than an oversized gorilla. According to the reporter who took a picture for us last year, Lord Ky was three heads taller than me.

He used to be the strongest hero of today. That was already the past though. He had lost his thaumaturgy in the same incident I got dismembered and disfigured.

"Ice Shaker, it's been a long time since we last met," he clapped his large hands once and sat across the table. His words were greeting, yet his tone was not. I heard a mild, suppressed anger in his voice.

"A few weeks is not that long, and I'm not Ice Shaker anymore," I simply replied, clutching my fist to hide the spark of magic in my palm.

Lord Ky propped his elbows on his thighs, nodding while pouting his lips. He turned away, took a deep breath, and said, "Of course, Mr. Nost. I suppose you are just Tale Nost, and I was just Katien Yeoman." The anger in his voice was undisguisable.

I knew he must blame his loss on me. I would, too, if I were him. There was no denying that I failed to stand my ground when the villains struck. Still, I would not just let him kill me if he were here seeking revenge. Granted, Lord Ky without a thaumaturgy was still Lord Ky.

Silence filled the air between us. Eventually, he said, "You are a fraud, Ice Shaker. The academy made a mistake to let you ever graduate."

I did fear his power, but there were lines not to be tramped on.

"What do you know? You've never gone to any school before."

He drew his revolver; I spread my palm.

Wall Spell.

In a violet spark of magic, all his three bullets crashed on a purplish, translucent wall. Lord Ky punched through it as I jumped up. He lunged forward and pushed me back to my seat.

Crouching on the table, he pulled the trigger once again. Though I activated the body enhancement spell, his bullet was slightly faster.