Chapter 39: Goat Treatment... An Offering... Slave Contract
Ruthar curled up on the cold, hard ground, hating himself for all that had happened up to this moment. Even his skills had begun to desert him.
"Damn it, I'm so useless. Even being born into the greatest family makes me look like the worst rat! I've only made things worse than they originally were. I should face the truth: my existence is only to be a stepping stone for others. I've done enough. I'm done…"
Ruthar sat up, scanning the room until he found his plate, which still held spoiled food. He had originally planned to die of starvation, but realizing how long that would take, he decided to test his invincibility.
He picked up the plate, raising it high before smashing it to the ground, shattering it into pieces. He picked up the sharpest shard and raised it to his throat without fear. As the sharp edge touched his skin, he hesitated, his hands trembling for reasons he couldn't understand.
"My life doesn't matter. I can't continue to suffer! I have no one left. Gandara, Elara, Kimara, and even Hendricks must hate me! Damn it! I even hate myself!"
Ruthar gritted his teeth in hate and, in one quick motion, plunged the shard into his throat, slitting it with trembling hands.
"KAAHHHH!!!" After the deed was done, Ruthar dropped the shard to grab his throat, which oozed blood uncontrollably, drenching him within seconds. He fell onto his back and began to shake violently.
'It hurts so much, but not as much as the pain in my heart.' Ruthar tried to ease the pain with words, but it didn't help. His suicide attempt filled him with more guilt than peace, but there was no turning back now.
'Suicide? Wouldn't that mean I go to hell? Well, that is if hell exists here. I would take this exit…'
[You have escaped the clutches of death.]
As soon as the notification came, his slit throat regenerated in an instant, and the pain disappeared as though it had never existed.
"No! No! Shit! Baka! Baka!" Ruthar sat up, looking like a crazed dog as he ran his hand through his hair maniacally. "It didn't work! Why? How the hell do I kill myself?"
Searching desperately for an answer, it did not take him long to figure one out.
Again, his eyes flew to the glass shards spread across the ground, and he instantly went to pick them up.
Meanwhile, the guard on watch was already on his toes, squeezing his manhood between his legs and squinting his eyes at Ruthar's actions.
Even as a guard who was trained to be tough and relentless, this sight was something else entirely.
"He's trying to kill himself. This boy has truly gone mad!" Another minute of speculation proved to be more heart-wrenching than the guard had anticipated.
Ruthar had gathered a few shards with sharp edges and, all at once, stabbed them into his throat so deep and hard that the sound of it shattering his throat and spine could be heard.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!" The guard screamed, falling to his knees and vomiting his breakfast onto the ground twice before turning to the corpse shaking abruptly on the floor.
'This brat is insane. I feel like I am the one really going to die if I continue to watch this madness go on…'
He began to tremble in disbelief as Ruthar's body stabilized itself, and he sat up almost immediately with the shards still embedded in his neck.
'Why am I not dying? What the hell is this? Die, you bastard! Ruthar Hellborn never existed to begin with, so why don't you die, bastard?!'
Ruthar menaced as he watched the shards get pushed out of his neck one after the other by a mysterious force.
"Baka! Baka! Baka!" Ruthar recited, pulling hard on his long red hair and tearing it roughly from the skin of his head.
"Baka! Baka! Baka! Baka!" He continued to scream, pulling out even more hair, and by this time, he began to bleed all over from the tears on his skull.
(Baka means idiot)
"AHHHHHHHH!!! KAYAAAHHHHK!!!" With one final burst of madness, he picked up the largest shards closest to him, gathering about five into his left palm. He picked one with his right and placed it into his mouth, and without hesitation, gulped the glass down as though it were some kind of medicine.
He twitched his eyes and wrapped his legs around each other as the process was excruciatingly painful.
"N-not… yet!"
He picked up the next shard before even healing from the last and shoved it, not into his mouth to swallow, but directly into his throat, choking on it.
The shard went right through, wounding a good deal of his inner organs and alveoli. By this time, blood was gushing from his mouth, pouring like a geyser, but he wouldn't stop yet.
The next one was bigger than the last, and as he tried the same method he did with the second, he encountered a large difficulty.
It wouldn't go down. Instead, it stuck itself in his throat and disrupted his entire respiration.
As he kept on with his struggle, a chime rang in his ear, halting all his choking at once.
[You have lost a skill.]
[You have lost all masteries of death and cannot revive yourself, as death is not a being nor a phenomenon that stays the same way or can be controlled.]
'What?!' Ruthar screamed within as he turned over and magically vomited the glass in his throat with little struggle. However, the shards in his gut were already too far gone to force out of himself. But since it had no effect on him, he didn't bother sitting up and tested on the wall of the cell.
'Why the hell did I stop then? I wanted to die, but when I knew I would die, I stopped! I lost all confidence in committing suicide. Why is that?'
"So you do value your life."
Ruthar heard a woman's voice and turned to the cell's gate to see a person standing there.
Obviously a woman, wearing a royal outfit, fair complexion, and long ash hair. This gave away her entire identity to Ruthar.
The firstborn and first daughter of the Darkdawn.
"Lady Taraha," Ruthar muttered in a low tone. This was a person he rarely expected to see at a time like this.
She had a straightforward personality, not to be really trusted, but one thing that stood out about her was that she never did anything without a reason.
"I'm here to offer you a contract, Ruthar Hellborn," she spoke straightforwardly with an intentful look Ruthar was disinterested in.
"How would you like to leave this place?" Taraha asked and was glad to see Ruthar gasp in shock. He must have been jolted to hear her say those words. The Spade Kingdom was known for brutality, and this would typically go against those standards.
But as time went on, Ruthar's expression fell. Even if he were to be freed at that moment, one thing was sure. He had nowhere to stay or anyone to rely on.
"I know you have nowhere to stay. That's why I have chosen to adopt you, little brother. You will serve me for the next ten years as my slave or more," she said, signaling to the guard who kept watch and a dark-hooded figure Ruthar could remember as clearly as the female exorcist who captured him.
The female exorcist shortly came to the cell, pulling out a bunch of keys and shoving one into the keyhole. She twisted and opened the cell shortly after.
'What is happening? Am I getting freed so easily? No, there must be a catch, especially from Taraha of all people.'
"What's the catch?"