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Rem The Egoist

TaT6
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
When eyes once filled with life grow empty, and the left hand burns with the flames of ego, the Left-Hand Man shall rise. Destined to reignite the calamity of destruction, as he holds the key to destruction.
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Chapter 1 - Chap:(1) The Birth Of An Egoist

"WAIT!! Please don't kill me, I... I have a fam—"

 

Before he could finish, I severed his head. His body collapsed, lifeless.

 

The ground was already crowded, every inch covered by the corpses of fallen soldiers. Blood soaked the earth, a thick, suffocating stench rising from the massacre.

 

With nowhere else to go, I sat on top of one of the bodies, struggling for breath.

 

"I mean no disrespect," I muttered between gasps, as I rested on the corpse.

 

"Huh, still can't believe all of this happened because of a single rejection," I muttered to myself.

 

A dark voice echoed in my head, its tone laced with amusement.

"I'm still surprised you've come this far, Rem". It said

 

Before I could respond, more soldiers appeared, quickly surrounding me.

 

I stood, my body gradually engulfed by a blue flame, leaving only my face untouched.

 

"Rem, the Egoist! Surrender now to avoid more useless bloodshed," one soldier, who looked like their captain, shouted.

 

I ignored him, my face soon consumed by the same blue-looking flames.

 

As my transformation was completed, the soldiers didn't hesitate for another second and charged at me.

 

I could see the fear in their eyes, clear as day—they knew they were walking toward their death.

 

The eerie silence of the battlefield was soon drowned out by the screams of dying men.

 

"AHHHHH!"

"AHHHHH!"

 

I screamed as I hit the ground, the wooden sword slipping from my hand.

 

"Ouch! Damn, Noelle, can't you go easy on me?" I complained, still catching my breath.

 

The girl in front of me stood tall, her fiery red hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her toned body was perfectly sculpted, every curve and line accentuated with strength and grace. Her long red hair flowed in soft waves down her back, tied with a black ribbon. With full lips, a delicate nose, and striking green eyes that seemed to draw you in, her beauty was as intense as her power.

 

Noelle—my childhood friend.

 

We first met when we were seven. She had come with her father, who needed to discuss important matters with my father. Her family, the Dimitris, had been struggling, and life hadn't been kind to her. On top of that, Noelle was shy, and the nobles took full advantage of it, making her an easy target because of her family's situation.

 

I couldn't just stand by and watch. I promised myself I'd protect her.

 

Over time, we became close—closer than just friends. But everything changed when we joined the War Academy.

 

"You have the audacity to complain after begging me to train with you?" Noelle snaps, her voice laced with anger and annoyance.

 

"You can't even handle this much, and you think you can become a warrior? Pathetic."

 

She scoffs, turning away. "This is a waste of time. I'm going back."

 

"Huh—wait, Noelle!" I call out, but she ignores me, walking away without a second glance.

 

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath, frustration boiling up. "There she goes again."

 

With a heavy sigh, I pull myself up. "Why am I like this?" I say to no one, my voice barely above a whisper, as I bend down to pick up the wooden sword.

 

The moment my fingers wrap around the hilt, my hand starts shaking uncontrollably. My breathing quickens, sweat beading on my forehead, dripping down my face.

 

"Dang it!" I scream in frustration, flinging the sword away like it burned me.

 

I leave the training grounds, the weight of my frustration dragging my steps. The dorm is quiet when I push the door open. Inside, it's just as simple as ever—one single bed, a plain closet with a mirror, and a study table tucked into the corner.

 

I glance around. "A pretty simple room," I mutter, though the words barely reach my ears.

 

Heading to the bathroom, I strip off my clothes, the exhaustion sinking deeper into my bones. As I stand in front of the mirror, I catch my reflection.

 

A boy with dark blue hair stares back at me. Thin, but with traces of muscle that cling to his frame. His hair is cropped short, the same shade of deep blue as his eyes—eyes still filled with some glimmer of life, despite everything. He wasn't bad-looking, just too thin, the kind of thin that makes you wonder if he's been starving for months.

 

That boy is me—Rem Wraith, the disappointment of the Wraith family.

 

As I finish my shower, I collapse onto the bed and let the exhaustion from the day overtake me, my eyes shutting involuntarily.

 

The morning arrives quietly. The sound of birds chirping and warm sunlight nudges me awake.

 

"Another day," I murmur as I push myself out of bed.

 

I drag myself through the routine—getting dressed, grabbing my books—still feeling the weight of tiredness pulling at my limbs.

 

When I finally make it to class, the room is empty. Of course, it's breakfast time. Everyone is probably down in the cafeteria or scattered around campus, eating with friends.

 

Eating. I whisper to myself.

 

There was a time when I actually enjoyed food. As a kid, I loved cooking. It used to be my hobby—experimenting with ingredients, tasting different flavors, enjoying the simple act of making something with my own hands.

 

But now...

 

I let the thought hang in the air, the words left unsaid, a reminder of the person I no longer am.

 

Suddenly, the door creaks open, interrupting the silence. A girl walks in.

 

She has long, flowing blonde hair that gleams in the morning light, her blue eyes shining with an almost ethereal glow. Her appearance is striking, maybe even more captivating than Noelle's. She walks in casually, holding two pieces of bread in her hands, her hair loose and cascading down her back.

 

 

It was Luna, one of my few, no—probably my only—friend here.

 

"You didn't eat breakfast again, did you, Rem?" she says, her voice laced with frustration.

 

"Didn't feel like eating anything right now," I reply, glancing at the pieces of bread she's carrying.

 

"You never feel like eating anything," she snaps, stepping over to my table and dropping the bread in front of me. "Eat this. Fast."

 

I stare at the bread, feeling an odd weight settle in my chest. "Do I have to?"

 

Luna's eyes narrow, and she leans in closer, her tone serious. "Want me to shove it in your mouth?"

 

I can't help but smirk a little at that. Classic Luna.

 

I force the bread into my mouth, even though my body resists every bite. It feels heavy—like swallowing sand.

 

"Damn, is eating really this hard for you?" Luna says, watching me struggle to chew through a single piece of bread.

 

After what feels like an eternity, I finally finish. As I wipe my mouth, Luna leans in, a teasing smile on her lips.

 

"So, how did your training with your childhood sweetheart go?" she asks with a smirk.

 

"Bad, as usual," I mutter, feeling my mood sink again.

 

Luna notices the shift in my expression and tries to say something comforting, but before she can, students begin filing into the classroom.

 

Her friends call out to her, and she glances back at me. "We'll talk later," she says, giving me a quick smile before heading off with them.

 

I sit there, alone again.

 

 

I see Noelle talking with her group of friends, all top students like her.

 

She seems to enjoy their company more than mine.

 

Our eyes meet. For just two seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

 

As usual, she looks away and continues chatting with her friends, as if I'm not even there.

 

After class, everyone starts leaving, talking about plans, and heading off to wherever they need to be.

 

As I stand up to leave, I notice something on the ground—a necklace.

 

I instantly recognize it. Noelle's necklace, the one I gave her as a gift when we were kids.

 

So she still wears it, huh? I mutter to myself, my mood lifting slightly.

 

I pick it up and head toward where she usually hangs out—an empty classroom where she and her friends always gather.

 

As I approach the classroom door, I hear laughter coming from inside.

 

"Ah, stop it!" Noelle says, laughing.

 

"Seriously though, who do you have a crush on?" a girl's voice asks.

 

"You have to have one!" another girl chimes in.

 

"Is it your childhood friend?" a male voice teases.

 

"Ew, no!" Noelle quickly responds, a little too fast for comfort.

 

"Now that you mention it, why are you still hanging around with that burden?" another male voice says.

 

"Well, you know, a strong person like me needs a burden to stay humble," Noelle replies, laughing along with them.

 

"True," the same girl who asked about the crush responds, laughing as well.

 

"Wait, Noelle, where's your necklace?" the girl suddenly asks.

 

"Huh... shit, I must've dropped it," Noelle says, panic creeping into her voice.

 

"Finally, that necklace was an eyesore," the guy who called me a burden sneers.

 

"Oh shut it, Brian, I need to go find it!" Noelle exclaims, her tone desperate now.

 

"We've got ten minutes before the training class starts. Let's help you find it," the other guy suggests.

 

"Thanks," Noelle says as she rushes to the door.

 

As she swings the door open, she spots her necklace on the ground.

 

"Huh? It's right here," she mutters in confusion.

 

She glances around and notices me walking away down the hallway, just a shadow at the far end.

 

 

I enter my dorm, shutting the door quietly behind me.

 

I stare at the mirror, my reflection staring back at me.

 

"A burden, huh," I murmur to myself, the words hanging heavy in the air.

 

Yes, a dark voice suddenly echoes in my mind.

 

But I don't panic. Oddly enough, the voice is… comforting, almost like it's been there all along, waiting for me.

 

How long are you going to be like this, Rem? the voice whispers, its tone cold yet familiar.

 

I don't respond, but the words cut deeper than I'd like to admit.

 

They all treat you like you're nothing, it continues. Your family, the girl you love—after everything you've done for her, her happiness, and she throws you aside.

 

I can feel my hands trembling, my anger boiling beneath the surface, like a volcano ready to erupt.

 

Are you just going to let them walk over you like this? The voice taunts, driving the knife deeper.

 

My knuckles clench so tight they turn white, and before I know it, my fist slams into the glass. The mirror shatters, shards scattering across the floor. Blood trickles from my knuckles, but I barely feel it.

 

YES! The voice roars in triumph. That's it! Let the anger out! Not on the mirror, but on those who deserve it!

 

I stare at the cracked reflection of myself, each fragment showing a different piece of me—broken, distorted.

 

Show them, Rem, the voice urges, insistent.

 

My gaze shifts to my own eyes, once full of life, now drained, empty.

 

"Show them..." the voice hisses.

 

"Show them..."

 

"You're Ego"