Recalling the events of the past few days, all the pent-up rage he’d bottled up was ready to explode at any time. He winced in pain as he straightened his back, and clenched his fists while looking down at his body.
Remembering the technique his mother shared with him, he attempted to circulate mana through his broken mana veins, causing excruciating pain to spread throughout his body. His stomach muscles convulsed violently and he threw up blood on the new pelts, immediately stopping the technique.
Cold sweat dripped down his forehead as he stared at the viscous pool of blood before him. His pupils trembled as tears slowly dripped down his cheeks, unable to contain the sadness and despair.
His nails cut deep into his flesh as his shivering hands clenched into fists, and his teeth let out a sharp screeching sound as he grit them. Blood soaked his palms, turning them into a crimson hue which only grew larger as range and anger took over his body.
I refuse! I refuse to be a cripple!
He grunted in pain and slammed down on his knees, bloodying the pelt that served as a blanket as he wiped his hands on it. His bandaged and broken legs shivered as he removed the cover, and he wore a twisted expression while trying to get out of bed.
Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!
His leg muscles spasmed violently as they barely listened to his orders, and the bone fragments rattled in his body as he fell to the ground with a loud thud.
Biting his lower lip, he raised his head toward a makeshift torch, a small fire stone glued to the pelts situated next to a shelf. He dragged his feet behind him as he crawled on the uneven and cold floor.
The chilling surface rubbed against his bandages, nearly undoing them as blood seeped out of them once again, the dark mana pulsating wildly as it ate away at his flesh.
Enduring through the pain, he crept even closer to the magic stone, his eyes burning with the desire to prove himself wrong, to prove the old man wrong… and to stop his fears from blooming further.
Minutes that felt like hours passed, a sharp pain spreading all throughout his body each time he moved. Panting, he held onto the shelf as he raised himself, and he tugged the firestone while falling to the ground.
He lay on his back as he held the stone above his head, its glowing surface reflecting in his crimson eyes. It burned furiously in his palm as the mana that the old man left in it had yet to be fully used, and he shut his eyes as he imagined the mana in his body.
I can do it… I can do it…
Recalling the spell for a simple fireball, he gritted his teeth while trying to control the energy within his cracked mana veins, and called to the meager amount of mana still present in his core.
A burning pain spread throughout his nearly shattered mana veins as the old cracks expanded and new ones appeared, he could feel his core vibrating violently as the two dimly lit stars slowly spun to life.
The firestone trembled in his hands as it accepted the barely usable mana, and a small wisp of fire seemed to be forming above it.
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However, that didn’t last long as it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
As Kai forcefully used the magical energy, he could feel that his mana core stood at the brink of shattering, he could either persist and risk higher injury and death… or he could accept that he was no longer able to cast Onkos spells…
His eyes snapped open, and he threw the firestone away in blinding rage. He brought his burning, shaky hands to his face, which he gripped madly, to the point of bruises and wounds.
A voiceless scream left his body as he parted his lips, letting out a primal and muffled scream as his hoarse voice cracked under the insurable pain.
The old man rushed madly to the room, his heart racing as anxiety overtook his body. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU STUPID BOY?!” he screamed madly as he laid his eyes on Kai, who remained silent.
Struggling to lift him up without provoking any more pain, the old man placed Kai onto the bed and looked at him with a scornful gaze before letting out a deep sigh. “Just… rest for now…’
Kai stared at the ceiling, struggling to hold back tears as he questioned what could have caused such catastrophic damage.
Was it that weird form I transformed into when I fought that bastard… or maybe because of that ‘Heavenly Tribulation’ spell I didn’t test properly… perhaps a combination of both…Fuck!
He grunted in pain as he cursed inwardly, and decided that it was better to sleep the pain away than dwell on things he couldn’t change. However, even the sleep he longed for was nothing but a mental prison, where he was shackled by nightmares and whipped by guilt.
He slowly fell into the fabrications of his own mind.
Every time, the same scene would repeat, accompanied by a different sunset.
Every time, the peaceful dream would turn into a hellish nightmare.
Every time, this hell would become his eternal torture.
Every time, sweat would drench his body, and his heart would race.
The next month passed slowly, and Kai started walking and talking more freely. He often sat at a bonfire with the old man. There, the crackling wood accompanied his trembling voice as he recounted everything that had happened to the old man, whose face was covered in guilt.
His heart skipped a beat when Kai told him about the changes in his body, about the weird form he had, and how he managed to fight Haniard equally… of course he omitted the last part of the fight, which was largely unimportant, for now.
The old man decided to look into it as he found the description familiar, but his old mind couldn’t quite put his fingers on where it was that he saw it.
During that time, Kai had taken small steps toward healing. The corrosive wound has been reduced to a small cut and the skin around it healed slowly, leaving a horrid scar behind.
The boy was also worried about Kana and her family and had asked the old man to go look for them. Fortunately, their house was already vacant, and it looked like they had left in a hurry.
Once he was able to walk normally, the old man accompanied him to his parent’s graves, where the erected sword reflected the soft light that sneaked through the canopies.
He made his way toward it, staring at the hole that was now covered in lush vegetation, and a single tree had sprouted from its resting place.
His heart dropped to his stomach, and he fell down on his knees as he lost all feeling in his legs. Blood dripped from his clenched fists, his mind in turmoil as he struggled to accept the facts… but he had to. He saw them die with his own eyes, and now their grave lays beneath his feet.
Tears flowed down his cheeks like a river, and he bit his lips as he struggled to hold back his cries. He wept, and the sounds of his grief echoed through the calm forest so that anyone nearby could hear the sound of his suffering.
They were the cries of an orphan.
The light reflecting upon the blade faded, and so his cries stopped. His eyes snapped open and he walked toward the sword as he got up. A shiver ran down his spine as he grabbed the hilt.
It’s heavy…
The weight of the sword fell on his body as he raised it above his head, staring at its bloodied surface, he clutched it tighter as it trembled in his hand.
The old man waited for Kai to finish mourning, and he let out a heavy sigh as he looked with pity at the boy. So much tragedy at such a young age… I’m surprised he’s still so lively…