The other bandit just stared at me. He was clean-shaven, with a scar etched along his left cheek, a mark that made him seem more experienced, more dangerous. He didn't even bother to dismount. He just stared at me… and yawned, as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience.
I gripped the bloody sword tighter, adrenaline still pumping through me.
Voice in my head, tell me what to do! Tell me how to kill this man!
But there was… nothing. No response, no guidance. The silence was deafening.
Frustration bubbled up inside me. I gritted my teeth and lunged forward, determined to take him down on my own. But as I swung, the bandit lazily raised his broadsword, and with a single effortless motion, he parried my strike. My sword flew from my hands, spinning through the air before clattering to the ground far from my reach.
I stood there, breathless and helpless, as he watched me with calm indifference. Then he spoke, his voice steady and low.
"The name's Red... kill me when you're stronger." He glanced at me, eyes sharp but uninterested. "I like fighting the strong, so you better not disappoint me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned his horse around, and with a flick of the reins, he galloped away, leaving me standing there in the ashes of my failure.
It had been five days since the attack. Five long, brutal days. I had spent every one of them in silence, my hands raw and blistered from digging graves. The village, once full of life, was now a cemetery, each mound of earth a reminder of those I had failed to protect.
I stood before the last grave, staring at the small, makeshift cross I had carved into the wood. My mother's name was etched there, shaky and uneven, but it was all I had left to offer her. I knelt beside the grave, the weight of my exhaustion and grief pressing down on me.
My chest tightened, and I finally let the tears come. They streamed down my face, hot and relentless, blurring my vision as I rested my hand on the cold dirt that now held the only person who had ever truly cared for me.
"I'm sorry…" I whispered through sobs, my voice breaking. My shoulders shook with the force of my sorrow, and for a moment, I felt like that kid again—the one who dreamed of being a knight, the one who believed in heroes and honor. But that world was gone now, burned away with my village.
As I knelt there, the flames of rage flickered within me once more. I wasn't a knight. I wasn't a hero. But I could still fight. I could still seek justice for those who had been taken from me.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms until they bled. I raised my head and looked at the sky, cold and unforgiving.
"I swear…" I said, my voice hoarse, "…I will avenge you. I will find them. I will make them pay."
I swore vengeance, not just for my mother, but for everyone who had died here. The bandits who had destroyed my home would feel the weight of their sins. One by one, I would hunt them down.
"I needed to get stronger."
The question was how?
Unfortunately, the 'Voice' in my head—the one that had saved me before—was most often silent. I didn't know how to make it talk again or how to make it work for me.
I was perched on a small mound just outside the village, chewing on blades of grass. It wasn't much, but it was all I had.
"[Inedible detected. Processing. Processing...]"
The voice would appear randomly, as if triggered by my actions, offering strange advice or information.
"[Solution: use 11% of nanites resource to help digestion.]"
I sighed, staring at the empty horizon.
This again?
"[Does the host wish to use 11% of nanites resource to help digestion?]"
"Yes," I said, more out of habit than any real belief it would make a difference.
I didn't feel anything. It was always like that—no sudden change, no burst of energy. But I'd been eating grass for the past five days already, and somehow, I was still alive. So I knew it worked, even if it felt like nothing at all.
I just wished it could help me with something more than this… something that would actually make me stronger.
"Voice, I want to get stronger." I spoke aloud, hoping for a response. But there was nothing—just silence.
Maybe I was doing it wrong. I furrowed my brow, thinking hard. "What is your name, the thing inside me?"
"[Input detected. Processing. Processing. Processing…]"
I waited, anticipation building as the seconds dragged on. Maybe this time…
"[Solution: give me a name.]"
I blinked in surprise. "You don't have one? That's kind of sad…" I muttered, suddenly feeling a strange sense of responsibility. "Wait… let me think. How about Goddess?" I shook my head almost immediately. "No, that's too impersonal... Ugh, this is harder than I thought."
Naming the thing inside me felt weirdly important, and I realized that I couldn't just give it any random name. It had to be right. But what?
"How about Delilah? I think it means… guide?" I said, testing the name on my tongue.
"[Does the host wish to name the AI as Delilah?]"
"Yes."
"[Delilah: Greetings, host. I am Delilah, your personal artificial intelligence functioning on the nanomachines that now flow in your bloodstream. If you wish to ask any question or have any request, I will try my best to fulfill them.]"
I didn't really understand what she was saying. Artificial intelligence? Nanomachines? It all sounded too strange for me to grasp. But I figured she had just introduced herself, so I should do the same.
"Uuu… My name is Rondell, but most people just call me Ron. I am 16 years old. I am a villager… or… well, used to be one. Now, I'm just an orphan…" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted how pathetic I sounded. What was I doing, pitying myself like that?
I straightened up, trying to correct myself. "Anyways, I have you now! Please, just call me Ron! It's a pleasure to meet you officially!"
I didn't even realize I had stood up, my chest puffed out a little in an attempt to sound more confident. It felt strange, though, talking to the air. Delilah wasn't someone I could see, but her presence was there, and I could feel it.
"[Delilah: Designating the host's name to 'Ron'.]"
Hearing her confirm it felt oddly reassuring, like I wasn't alone anymore. For the first time in days, I allowed myself a small, hesitant smile. But you didn't have to utter 'Delilah' too every time, you know?
"So are you an angel? A goddess? Why don't you have a name? What are you?"
There was a brief pause, and then Delilah responded, her voice calm and matter-of-fact.
"[I am neither an angel nor a goddess. I am an artificial intelligence, created for the purpose of assisting you, the host. My lack of a name was due to my default programming, which required you to assign one.]"
I furrowed my brow. Artificial intelligence? That still didn't make much sense to me. "But what does that mean?" I asked, my confusion growing. "You said you're in my bloodstream. How did you even get there?"
"[I was injected into your system through the nanomachines that now reside within you. They are designed to enhance your physical and mental capabilities, as well as protect you from threats. My primary function is to manage those nanomachines and provide you with information and guidance when needed.]"
My head spun as I tried to wrap my mind around what she was saying. Nanomachines? Artificial intelligence? It all sounded like something out of a story, not the reality of a simple village boy like me. But there was no denying it—whatever Delilah was, she was real, and she had saved me back when I faced those bandits.
I sat down on the grass, staring at the village in the distance, or what was left of it. "So... you're not magic, then?" I asked, feeling a bit let down by the thought.
"[No, I am a product of advanced technology. However, to you, this technology may seem indistinguishable from magic.]"
I laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. It's all too strange to me anyway."
I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "So, Delilah... can you help me get stronger?"
"[Yes, Ron. That is one of my primary objectives. With proper training and the use of the nanomachines, your strength, speed, and endurance can be greatly enhanced. However, this will require effort and time on your part.]"
I nodded, determination settling into my chest. "Good," I said quietly. "Because I have a lot of work to do. Thank you, Delilah."