The morning sun was so soothing that as soon as Atlas walked out of the dwelling, its rays, full of life and warmth, gently caressed his face as if they were bestowing their blessing for the journey ahead.
That moment was so pleasant that the young man lingered for a brief moment to savor the delights of that beautiful day. Still, when he raised his head again, intending to enjoy the garish view of the vigorous forest that surrounded the house, he found a tall figure right before his nose. His shape was so large that it blocked even the long expanse of verdant trees that separated the house from the outside world.
With that mountain there, even the sun's powerful rays dimmed.
Atlas was not startled by his sudden appearance, for he knew well who he was.
He gave two gentle taps to what appeared to be the figure's shoulder and spoke, with a soft smile, "Grandpa, I thought you wouldn't be back in time. I'm about to..."
Before the young man could finish his speech, the figure, which by now had become more distinct, shook his shoulders forcefully, causing him to jerk several times.
"HAHAHA... little brat, your shouts were so loud that you scared all the wild animals in the forest. That's the only reason I could get back in time."
The backpack and pickaxe already placed Atlas under incredible strain, so the giant's tenacious grip did not help him.
Even with shaky legs and sweat covering his forehead, Atlas tried to hide his precarious situation and smiled bitterly, "Well... I learned from the best."
Noting his grandson's indomitable spirit, the old man sighed bitterly and lamented in his heart: 'What a cruel fate...'
Distraught and angry, the old man took a few moments to recover, and he did so with all his might, emitting a thunderous laugh in a tone even more potent than the young man's.
"HAHAHA... You're right! You are so right! HAHAHA..."
The forest filled with wild creatures began to emit different feral cries as if they were responding with ferocity to their worst enemy.
Even the haughty rooster came out of his palace and began flapping his golden wings forcibly, proving that the beating he had received from the old woman had not been so heavy.
The old man continued to laugh for a long time, probably to vent the deep regret that was wearing him down, and then, after a deep breath, he asked the young man, "So... have you prepared everything? Food, water, and equipment?"
"Yes...almost everything." Atlas nodded and lifted the small leather object tied to the magic lace placed around his belt, "...I just need to fill the flask."
The object in his hands looked like a simple leather flask, but in truth, it was one of the most precious objects in his possession and that he cared about most because it was his grandfather himself who had given it to him.
Unlike an ordinary flask, this one could hold an absurd amount of water, all thanks to special Chaos Runes traced inside. An essential item for any adventurer.
"Hmm... Bravo, don't forget to fill it all up. It could save your life inside those damned caves."
Grandpa was a man of few words, but when it came to his family, he showed all his affection.
"Mmm... I will do it, don't worry. I'll fill it as always from the stream just downstream." Atlas hugged his grandfather tightly and let his wrinkled hand stroke his hair.
"Hmm... Good boy. Be sure to be careful. The world out there is getting more and more dangerous."
He had waited many years, and finally, the long-awaited moment had come.
It was time for Atlas to begin his journey to a better future.
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People like him were called Cursed Child.
Since ancient times, known cases have been sporadic. Moreover, all the stories connected with them were shrouded in such a dark mystery that their existence was considered an aberration.
To the world, a Cursed Child was a creature abandoned and despised even by the universe. In fact, as time went on, the appearance of such beings had become a mere legend.
His curse was to live in this world devoid of the ability to make contact with the Chaos Energy that permeated from the depths of the earth and the center of the universe. A living being without a Chaotical Core.
Atlas was a young man who was slowly approaching his twenties, with an ordinary appearance. He had short black hair, thin black eyebrows, and two mysterious eyes like precious amber.
He did not remember his early years or his real family. All he recalled were the fourteen years spent together within this little world after the age of six.
Everything he knew, he had learned from the old gramps, who had raised him since he was in swaddling clothes.
They gave him a new life, undoubtedly better than the one chosen by his birth family.
The knowledge of the two was vast enough to allow him to raise an existence hated by the world. But his presence was repudiated by the world's laws, and even they were helpless in the face of the crude reality.
After all, it was foolish to think of getting something that should have existed from birth, something so vital that it could put him in touch with the power that was one with the world and the whole universe.
Fortunately, where the two sprightly old gramps failed, a different fate extended its hand, giving the young man a new path, perhaps the only one that could concretely help him.
Being born into this unjust universe forced him to give up and fight for his future. Yet, that fateful meeting ten years earlier had created new hope for the young man and counterbalanced the injustices that had afflicted him in recent years.
Luckily, his unfortunate condition was well hidden by the devious eyes of the world thanks to powerful artifact that constantly generate a weak fluctuation of energy to make him seems no different than a weak martial cultivator at the mortal stage.
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