So, get this, yeah?
I wake up...
...and bam!
Julian's gone.
Vanished into thin air! Can you believe it? That little munchkin didn't even bother to grace me with his presence. The guy didn't even bother to give me a "hello" or a "goodbye"!
Ugh, I could cry my heart out!
Uwaaaaah!!
Cue the waterworks, I'm about to unleash a flood!
But hey, who needs him anyway? Just one look at his brooding face and you know he's the silent rebel type.
But hey, no biggie. Julian's got that whole mysterious, silent rebel vibe going on anyway.
Meanwhile, poor Paul was sitting there pouting like a grumpy bear. He got defeated by his own 6-year-old son, can you imagine?
Imagine being so lame. Couldn't be me.
Lilia and Zenith shot daggers at Paul, giving him the stink eye as if he intentionally threw the match. I mean, it makes sense since who would've thought a little kid could outshine a master swordsman with insane skills from every sword school imaginable?
And after the fight, poof! Julian vanished into thin air faster than you can say "Abracadabra!"--- pulling a Houdini on us.
Gosh, I'm really gonna miss that rascal.
Even if I refuse to admit it.
JULIAN GREYRAT POV
The sun started to rise up, slowly, one bright golden ray at a time.
I stood beside the window of my, our room.
The curtains blew away, the brisk wind intruding like a mischievous cat, brushing my hair away.
I opened my arms to the either side, letting the wind embrace my entire frame, casting a cooling spell as the cold wind met beads of sweat on my body, making a small tingle run down my spine.
Seconds felt like hours, as I closed my eyes.
The usual black static when one closes their eyes was replaced by a murky red due to the rising sun. I let my eyes stay close, trying to feel everything not by merely seeing.
The touch. I felt this wind of this village's touch, fresh and cold, brisk, sometimes.
The smell of asura wheat filled the air. There was a certain nip in the air, tainting the smell of fresh dew with manure due to the breeding animals.
I took in a deep breath, brimming my lungs with oxygen. However, I didn't stop at its limit. I took in more and more, until I heaved internally, the walls of my lungs pulsing with a stabbing, prickling sensation. Then, in one synchronised motion, I let out the breath and opened my eyes.
The village looked beautiful, to an extent that I won't admit out loud.
Perhaps it was because the past 6 years in this village were the best years, I had ever experienced in both my lives.
I was reborn, given a second chance at life, despite having no merit to qualify for it. Fate works in mysterious ways, indeed.
I grew up all over again, from a little baby to a toddler. And now, old enough to leave this place on my own. It's not like I hate this place.
I cherish it more than anything. My family lives here. My mother, the one who gave birth to me and named me out of her love for only me. My father... never mind him. Lilia, the gentle yet vexatious maid, who not only took care of me but also hid many things that I did. Lastly, my twin brother, a fellow reincarnate---although he doesn't know about me. Despite knowing that he is probably an old man as well, mentally speaking, the way he treats me, until now, felt nothing but genuine.
So, of course, it is not that I hate this place.
But this world has chaotic origins. Wars and strife have been an integral part of this world. As things stand now, times are too peaceful. It could be a delusion, an excuse to live outside this little place, but still, the prospect of a war breaking out or anything else makes me want to gain more knowledge.
Of course, this village, was the last place I could attain any of that.
And today was finally the day. A day that I had awaited, not excitedly but purposefully. Not with the intent to run away permanently, but to attain enough knowledge to keep this little family, a family that I have come to adore so much, safe and sound.
The presence of a "purpose" in one's life serves as an intellectual and spiritual compass, navigating the vast expanse of human experience and delving deeper into the depths of one's own and, arguably, other humans' natures.
It grants a sense of direction, an unwavering, unperturbed focal point that infuses each waking moment with a distinct vibrancy.
Like an intricately crafted tapestry, a life purpose weaves together the threads of our passions, values, and aspirations into a cohesive narrative that gives our, everyone's existence depth and richness.
A man always need a purpose in life. Without purpose, the thin line between being alive and being dead while being alive blurs away, turning a man into a hollow husk of a man, an empty, worthless and pathetic exterior.
A life devoid of purpose is akin to wandering aimlessly in a dense fog, where the distinction between life and death becomes increasingly blurred. Without a purpose to anchor us, our days blend together in a monotonous haze, lacking the vitality and zest that make life truly worth living.
I might not know this before. But somehow, I know it now.
It was all due to someone.
Not like that person conveyed all of this in a verbal context.
No.
There wasn't much that could convince me, verbally or by actions.
Somewhere, along the line, at some point, I started to realise it.
Like the curtain rising in a theatre. The anticipation build-up, the thrill, the excitement, the urge to look forward to something.
Feeling all that at once was overwhelming, at first, I won't lie. But it wasn't an unwelcomed experience. After all, I had yearned for something like this.
Hasn't my wish already been granted?
A pursuit of normal life, something that blinded me, hasn't it already been fulfilled?
I realised it now. My prior purpose was the pursuit of such life. Without me realising, out loud, I had lost that purpose. Despite having the loving family, the lack of purpose had left me reeling, mentally---like an empty husk.
But I know what to do now, what I must do.
A knock resounded in the room, spreading like a ripple and then getting abruptly muffled by the whooshing sound of air and flapping of curtains, and then another knock. I stayed silent, not responding, holding my breath. Letting out a loud, audible exhale, I walked over to the door.
I placed my hand over the wooden handle. It was smooth, polished, my hand almost slipping over its sleek, cold surface.
As I pulled it, it pried open, letting out a low-pitched squeak, acquiesced, creaking more and more as I opened it.
From a half-opened door, I saw her, Lilia, standing straight with a rather sad look on her face, betraying her usual façade of false sternness dissipating like ashes in the air. "You're awake, Master Julian."
I let out a sigh, looking back at Rudeus, who was still asleep, snoring loudly and a huge smirk over his sleeping face. This was the last time I will be seeing him, for a while that is. He has been a good brother, regardless of his origins. Nitpicking his behaviour due to him being a reincarnate would just be sheer hypocrisy.
I looked up at Lilia and gave her a confident nod, although, it would've only added to her increasing worry. "Don't wake him up."
She gazed at me first, then at Rudeus' sleeping form. Her lips opened and closed, in a frenzied rhythm, trying to form words but all that came out was the sound of her breath. "Very well." She concurred to my proposition, hesitatingly, marginally timid in her posture as she gave way.
I took a step, then another but paused. Somehow, it felt wrong, parting like this.
I looked up at Lilia, again.
She looked worried, again.
"Just give me a moment." I spoke, the undertone of my voice much more delicate and submissive, like a subject requesting in front of its master.
Lilia gave me a nod, a glimmer in her eye, uncertain, of it I was.
I walked back, retracing my steps, walking in the same way I had before, numerous times, however, this time, it would be the last...
...for a while, of course.
Walking slowly with light steps, I reached out for the single table in the corner of our room.
Ripping a piece of paper from a notebook, I placed it on the table and picked a pen.
It's not like there was not much I could write.
Certainly, I could write and make it convincing. But I wanted to make it genuine.
Hmm, let's see.
I thought for a while, giving it a deep, contemplatory and brief moment of sheer thought. And finally, painstakingly, I arrived on a single conclusion.
I wrote it down, folded it and hided it under his pillow.
This should be enough. Yes.
I hope.
Lilia's voice boomed in the eerie stillness of the room, releasing me from the momentary daze. "Are you done?"
"Hm. Yeah." I replied.
She placed a hand on my back as we walked outside the room.
I looked up to see a stern look on her face. "I will be honest. I do not want to leave. Not just yet."
I hummed in response, thinking over my words. "I know, and I understand."
She let out a deep breath. "But I think if it's you, you'll be fine. You know..." She paused as I felt her gently pat my head. "I have always prayed the best for you, but....." she paused, once again, removing her hand from my head and tucking them in front of her, "...this time I don't."
It was natural for her to think like that. I am sure, even Zenith would be having the same thoughts. Paul is a man of his word, excluding his fidelity towards his wife. Hence, if I won, he would let me go.
Lilia interrupted my train of thoughts, her voice carrying a quiver that I never heard before, almost foreign, an alien experience. "You can call me selfis----"
"I don't. If anything, I am happy you feel like this. Goes to show your concern towards me." I cleared away any of her misunderstandings, regarding her thinking that I would hate her for something so illogical.
"I... I---"
"Its alright, Lilia. It has to happen anyways. Don't think much about it." I assured her, pressing my fingers around her palm before receding my hand from her's.
"Ah, Julian, you're here." Paul's voice echoed in my ears, carried by the wind as I looked at him, standing with his real sword in his hand.
"Julian! My son!" Zenith suddenly hugged me, burying her face into my shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"
There was a hint of nonchalance in her tone, confidence brimming, in her husband. She was certain I'd lose, and then slowly let go of this childish whim. She was a good mother, given she was ready to entertain the thought despite being sure that her kid would lose anyways. Most parents usually wave off these kinds of propositions.
"Yeah, I did." I replied, my voice still soft.
"Where's Rudeus?"
"He's sleeping. Please do not disturb him."
She looked at me, her sapphire eyes, the same as mine, looking with a sweet, mellow look. She placed her hand on my head, ruffling it. "Good luck." She said and planted a kiss on my forehead, gently caressing my cheeks in the process.
I nodded, humming, subtly as I moved away from her and picked up the sword Paul had made for me. It was still a little big for me, my size---for my current age at least. However, I picked it up, gazing it up to down.
Its sleek, black scabbard was opaque and reflectionless, the surface of the fabric draped over it much more irregular than smooth, granting it a nice, steady and unyielding grip over it.
I took the sword out of the scabbard. The blade was lustrous, a dull teal shade over it. Its size was abnormal for my stature, yet, it fits like a glove.
I brought it up and moved towards the lawn, standing in the opposite corner of the lawn from where Paul was.
"Ready when you are." Paul announced, subtle hints of excitement in his undertone. He gripped the hilt of his sword in both of his hands and got into a stance with the sword behind his leg.
I analysed him closely.
He was going for something along the lines of Sword-God and North-God style from his basic posture.
Sword-God style is all about explosive speeds.
*foooo*
I let out a deep breath and lowered my frame.
***shiing***
In the blink of an eye, my sword met his and a plethora of sparks frizzanated everywhere. Paul stumbled back; his eyes wide open.
However, he regained his senses as soon as he had lost them, the intial upper hand I had from the surprise attack revolving around my speed already fading away.
Paul smirked, the corner of his lips curving due to the sheer relish that made his face beam and his battle aura to swell and expand around him. "So, you could go faster after all. Seriously, you two never fail to surprise me." Paul charged forward, dragging his sword with him with its tip buried in the ground.
I leapt forward, my heart beating subtly in rhythm with the growing anticipation. I could feel the slight thrill in me, coursing like the flow of blood in my veins, no, in my entire being. As our sword clashed and the metallic sound reverberated, I felt the delight increasing. It wasn't a spar with wooden swords.
We were using actual swords with both of us not holding anything back.
I felt excited. The desire to let go of every belief and everything I've been holding in invaded me, immerse into a pure play of swords.
Paul looked at me with a similar look on his face. "Don't tell me you're already tired, Julian."
I matched his gaze and locked our swords, augmenting them in touki as we came face to face. "I could say the same for you."
Lilia and Zenith's whispers started to get dampened, muffled out as our sword strikes started to clash in my lower intervals. Spinning and ducking below a horizontal slash, I moved behind Paul and attacked his back.
However, without turning fully, he touched my sword with a rather delicate touch and then guided it to a side, parrying it completely.
My heart skipped a beat as I realised that Paul had transitioned from Sword God to Water God in a split second. The distance between us closed and the opening widened. A plethora of possibilities opened up in my mind. However, there was one certain problem.
Well, I was in a pinch, to put it simply, a big one at that.
It didn't matter that me and Paul were equally levelled in terms of proficiency in all schools of swordsmanship. And the experience didn't matter as well. What really mattered and became the base cause of disparity between us was my small size. No matter how proficient I was in magic or swordsmanship, Paul had a much bigger body and larger pool of stamina than me.
I might have a more potent battle aura but that still isn't enough to bridge the gap that our basic age difference has cause.
Of course, naturally, there are ways to counter this.
Or rather, one single way.
I had to end it in one swift strike.
A person is said to reach the epitome of Sword God style when one starts using an attack so fast that it starts to catch up with the speed of sound.
I let out a deep breath and lowered my stance. Sheathing my sword in its scabbard, I placed a hand on its hilt and moved my back feet, getting into a lowered, crouched position. "You aren't giving up, are you?" Paul asked, his voice booming with excitement.
"Paul! Don't be so harsh on him." Zenith's voice was a low growl, coming from my right, or left, I couldn't tell. My battle aura ran rampant all around me as I felt the ground beneath shiver.
"Woah. Are you serious?" Paul's timber wavered, flashing between a realm of excitement, confusion, amusement and then worry.
There were voices, more of them, but I shrugged them off. In my fight with Paul, I had come across something crucial. Something that I had been wondering on about for quite some while now.
My battle aura.
I was able to manifest it but not fully control it. Even now, when I released a little of my battle aura, it almost buckled Paul to his knees and while it wasn't even directed towards Lilia and Zenith, they felt it too, reeling under its influence and taking frightful steps back. Letting it run rampant is a good idea while facing multiple people but right now I didn't need it.
What I needed was a refined, polished control over it.
To compact it all into two places and let it out in one combined burst.
Closing my eyes, I focused on my legs.
Reaching out for my control over touki, I let it run inside me. I felt my bones shiver as it started to flow inwardly, feeling like a hot knife creating a hot, scalding sensation against my muscles.
I augmented everything---from the smallest fiber to the tinies blood vessel. I let touki/battle aura be conducted all around my legs. The muscles in my legs---Quadriceps Femoris, Hamstrings, Gastrocnemius and Soleu, Tibialis Anterio and Hip Flexors---they all swelled, expanding in all directions like a balloon.
Magic was based on a caster's imaginations. Just like how Rudeus' imagination casted the Saint-tier spell in a much efficient way. While many said it wasn't the case for swordplay, touki worked in a much familiar fashion. I just knew the basics of what I was about to do. The procedure, however, as far as I know, has been concocted all by me.
"Hah!" Paul's victorious cry fell on my ears, loud and clear as I brimmed every muscle responsible for explosive acceleration with touki. "If you leave yourself open like this, I can't help but attack you."
It was a mere touch of my toe but the ground beneath me sank, so did my body and my whole frame propelled forward, followed by a rumbling thunder. The scene of the boundary wall inched closer to my face before I could even blink. Planting my feet into the ground I came to a screeching halt, the eerie silence after I stopped was a stark contrast to the booming, thundering noise that I made when I made the leap.
"Oh fuck." Paul exclaimed but received a glare from Zenith, causing him to put a hand on his mouth. " That was the 『Longsword of Silence』wasn't it?" Paul asked, no, he told me. He knew what I was doing. He got down into a similar stance as me as he spoke again. "Well, it is fine by me. What you just performed was the epitome of Advanced ranked techniques in Sword-God style, 『The Longsword of Silence』, surpassing the speed of sound. Let's end it by seeing who has a more refined version."
My eyes started to glow, this time an ominous blue and green shade as I saw touki augment him.
More.
I needed to be faster.
Up until now I have been lazing off, limiting myself to a certain degree of development. But no more. This feeling of power...
...its intoxicating, alluring, even.
I focused on my legs that were still brimming with all the potential energy from the stored up touki.
I have to release it. All at once.
The ground beneath Paul, sunk lower, just like mine and an ear splitting explosion resounded as he moved towards me.
Now!
I released it all, the built-up kinetic energy too much for my sight to follow as I was barely able to keep track of my surroundings.
The vibrant green of trees and dull grey colour of the walls turned into a checkered, static white...
*clang*
...and the next moment out swords clashed.
My vision returned to me, as I breathed heavily, my chest heaving up and down as the chaotic battle spirit around me sizzled, popping like kettle corns.
I looked back, turning my head, looking over my shoulder as I saw Paul's sword snapped in half, a cut over his face that stretched all across the left side of his surprised countenance.
I let out my abated breath, a sense of relief washing over me.
I finally did it.
The Saint-tier Sword-God technique 『Longsword of Light』
I sheathed my sword and walked towards Paul who was sitting on the ground, letting go of his sword and his head down.
No words spoken, I bent lower and placed a hand on his cheek.
An emerald light flashed, and his cut mark healed in an instant.
Before I could remove my hand, he pulled me in a tight hug, knocking the air out of my lungs. I was about to say something, but the words never left my mouth as I saw his body tremble, tears falling with audible plops over me. "I am so proud of you, my son."
My lips moved again and again, but I refrained from talking, ensuring the unsaid words never get out.
What I was supposed to feel at this moment?
Pride in myself? Or something else? I don't know, since all I felt was a bubbling thrill of fighting more and an equal disappointment of it ending. But Paul isn't the one at fault. No one is.
I wrapped my own hands around him.
I should be happy that I am leaving this place. Yet, aside from the anticipation of the outside world, I don't feel it.
Will I miss them?
Who knows.
Will I ever come back?
Who knows.
After all, you never know anything.
(***)
After my battle with Paul, there was a brief moment of awkwardness.
No one really said anything.
Lilia readied my bag, packing all essentials and Paul went out to arrange a means of transport for me.
Right now, I was in a room, with my mom.
I was laying down, in her lap as she stroked my locks, her thin fingers combing my hair. She wasn't crying, but I could feel her voice crack every now and then. She was humming, a lullaby. She used to sing it before, when we were 5 months old. I could still remember it. She had it memorised it, down to the minute undertones. There was no deviation in the way she sang, her current performance an exact replay of all those years ago.
"Remember to not trust anyone blindly, ok?"
"I won't."
"Don't take food anyone just offers to you, ok? Even if its a pretty lady. It is mostly a trap."
"I won't, mother."
"Keep track of your money and food, ok?"
"I will."
She paused and sniffled. There were tears in her eyes, brimming, shining in the sun-lit room.
I felt something, in my heart, as I saw her blue eyes fix on me and a huge prideful smile on her face. She leaned down and kissed my forehead, "Don't forget to write letters."
"I'll write every week."
"Don't forget your mom."
"Don't worry. I will never."
She paused once again, looking down at me, "I love you, my little baby."
I stayed silent for a while as I saw her struggle to not let her tears out. Sitting up from her lap, I hugged her as the dam she had built broke and she broke into a fit of tears, crying out loud. I gently patted her head, pulling her close. It was a custom in this world, yet, a mother can't help but feel like this.
For the most part.
There are exceptions, like my prior mother, or rather the woman who gave birth to me.
Yes, that was the sole connection of her to me.
I couldn't really reply to what Zenith said. It would be a lie. I cared for her since she cared for me. But that was it. But I could offer her this temporary comfort.
Lilia interrupted, however I simply turned my head, not letting go of Zenith. Such action would've suddenly thrown her into a panic. "Master Paul has returned. He is waiting for you outside." I slowly, gently, let go of Zenith.
"I will try to be back whenever I have the chance." I assured her as she nodded, simply. She was still clutching my hand, her hold colder than ice and ironclad. "I promise." I added into my previous statement as she pursed her lips and let go of my hand.
"Don't break it."
"I won't." I replied, again, with the same timber.
Turning away from her, I walked towards Lilia who helped me wear my bag and then we went outside. Paul stood outside with a a scared look as he looked at me.
Seems like he is going to be blamed for losing intentionally.
I looked ahead and saw Paul's personal horse, Kalajav, draped in an expensive looking cloth. "Well, here is your personal ride."
I walked towards it and patted it as it let out a happy noise.
"Isn't it yours? And don't you love it a lot as well?"
"What do you mean "my"? Your'e my son. What I have is your's. And besides, I want to award you for advancing a rank. Although, I can't declare you as one, what you used was a saint ranked technique."
I feigned ignorance. Afterall, it's a bliss. "Really?"
"Yeah. So, take it and go on your adventure. Besides, Kalajav loves you more." He said and looked at the horse, as it let out a happy neigh.
I patted it, "Thanks."
"Anytime son. Anyways, hop on." He said with a pretend excited tone despite the crushing weight of Zenith's bloodthirsty gaze.
I threw one leg over the horse and sat on it, taking control of its reigns. Paul handed me a map, "This map covers almost every kingdom. If you want detailed maps on each kingdom, you have to get it locally."
"Thanks, dad."
"The Fittoa region of Asura Kingdom also has some Greyrats. Try to avoid them but if anything happens, don't act impulsively."
Well, that's ominous.
"I will try to."
With a nervous chuckle he scratched his head.
"Goodbye." I greeted and commanded the horse to move, without waiting for a reply.
Waiting for a goodbye could be hard on him so I spared him the agony of doing so.
"Well then, let's see where I should stop first." I mumbled to myself as I opened the map.
(RUDEUS GREYRAT)
I was about to go outside to play when I a piece of paper fell down on the floor from under my pillow. I crouched down and picked it up. Opening it up, I saw just three words as I felt my eyes sting.
"Fuck you." I spoke out loud as a tear fell down on the parchment.
'Until next time?'
Damn, I already miss him.