Gray opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was the absence of the sword. The weapon, which he had been holding just moments ago, had vanished as if it had never existed. In its place, the rune on his wrist pulsed with a soft, dim light, a faint glow that signified his partial success in controlling its power. But there was no sense of triumph in his heart, no feeling of accomplishment.
Thump! Thump!
His heart pounded, the sound echoing in his ears like a drumbeat as the memory that had surfaced moments ago lingered like a dagger lodged deep in his chest. It felt as though someone had taken that blade and twisted it, sending waves of anguish through him. His breath came in uneven gasps, his body trembling with the aftershocks of the emotional turmoil.
Thud! Thud!
The heavy throb of pain in his chest reverberated through his body, his vision clouded by the overlap of his past life with the memory he had just witnessed. The faces of those who had betrayed him in both lives blurred together, making it difficult to separate the pain of one from the other. A cruel reminder of the betrayals he had suffered, the deep wounds that had never truly healed.
His body was drenched in sweat, the cool air of the room doing little to alleviate the sticky discomfort.
Slick.
The bed beneath him was soaked through, the sheets clinging to his skin as if trying to suffocate him further. Every muscle in his body was tense, as though he had just fought a battle within his own mind and emerged barely victorious.
Gray's chest heaved as he struggled to regain control, to push the memories back into the recesses of his mind where they belonged.
Whoosh.
He exhaled deeply, trying to release the tension, but it was difficult—too difficult—when the pain was so fresh, so raw. The betrayal, the abandonment, the sense of worthlessness that had been instilled in him from such a young age; all of it resurfaced, threatening to drown him once again.
But even in the midst of this overwhelming storm, Gray forced himself to focus. He had been here before, lost in the turmoil of his thoughts, unable to see a way out. But he had survived then, and he would survive now. He was no longer the weak child he once was.
As the glow of the rune began to fade, Gray closed his eyes again, trying to steady his breathing.
Huff. Huff.
The sound of his own breath was harsh in the quiet room. The memories would always be there, lurking in the shadows of his mind, but they would not control him. He would not allow them to.
Slowly, the tremors in his body began to subside, and the suffocating weight on his chest lightened, if only a little.
Tick-tick.
The sound of the clock in the room marked the passage of time, a reminder that this was just one battle in a war that would never truly end. But for now, he had won. He had mastered the rune, even if only partially, and he had survived the onslaught of his own mind.
There was no joy in the victory, no sense of relief. But there was a grim determination, a resolve that burned brighter than the rune on his wrist. Gray would not be broken by the past. He had endured too much, lost too much, to let it consume him now.
Drip... drip...
The sound of water falling from his damp hair echoed in the silence as he lay there, his body aching and drenched in sweat. Gray's thoughts began to settle. The pain in his heart was still there, but it was a familiar pain, one he had learned to live with. He had suffered in both lives, but he had also grown stronger because of it.
And as long as he drew breath, he would continue to fight—to master the power of this world, to face whatever challenges lay ahead, and to carve out his own destiny, free from the chains of the past.
After he calmed down, Gray looked at his clothes, now covered in sticky sweat.
Squish.
The uncomfortable sound accompanied his movement as he shifted on the bed. Being a bit of a clean freak, his mood, already dampened by the memories, worsened.
"I should get a bath,"
he thought as he stood up and opened the door to the washroom.
Creak...
The door creaked as it reluctantly swung open.
"…"
Gray froze at the sight before him. His face remained expressionless, but inside, a surge of irritation flared, almost compelling him to burn the entire inn to the ground. The reason was simple: the washroom was far filthier than he could have imagined—disgustingly so.
Squish, squish.
Each step he took on the grimy floor added to his disgust.
Disgusted, he walked in and cleaned himself quickly.
Splash, splash.
The sound of water echoed as he rinsed away the grime. After five minutes, he emerged, a towel around his lower body and another in his hand to dry his hair. His black hair, darker than the night, was wet, droplets of water falling like tiny jewels.
He looked at the cracked mirror, noticing his black hair and two golden eyes on a pale face. he stared at the unfamiliar features. He still wasn't comfortable with them. In his previous life, Gray had white hair, so the black hair was new to him. He stared at the mirror... no, he stared at his new body—a skinny frame with no visible muscles. The only thing this body had going for it was the face. Yes, the one redeeming quality was that this face was beautiful, to the point that even other families would pale in comparison.
But to him, looks didn't matter.
Thump, thump.
His heart resonated with the imagined sound of battle. What use were good looks on a battlefield, surrounded by hundreds of enemies?
Besides, even though the face was handsome, it was no match for his previous life.
'Heh.'
Gray's lips curled up into a prideful smile before he shook his head and looked at his bed... no, more accurately, at his weapons.
Clink, clank.
The sound of metal echoed softly as he handled each one. He could now use runes easily, so he picked up each weapon and placed it inside his rune.
Whoosh.
The weapons vanished, the rune's power growing more familiar with each use.
He glanced out the window, noticing the sun just beginning to rise.
Caw... caw...
The distant call of a crow marked the dawn.
"World Academy..." he mumbled. Now that everything he needed was done, all that was left was to get there.