"PLEASE HAVE MER—"
Before the woman could finish her plea, her head rolled to the ground, severed in an instant.
The severed head hit the grass with a soft thud, blood splattering in a crimson arc across the ground. A man in an orange robe calmly approached the lifeless body, his sword glinting in the fading light.
"Geez, Mr. Chaos, you need to chill." A man in a black robe commented, his face completely hidden beneath the hood.
"Let him have his fun," another man said, his robe a deep crimson.
"You know," Mr. Chaos started, slicing the lifeless body into pieces with unnerving precision, "I just remembered someone from the Wraith family."
"Who? Rim Wraith?" The man in the red robe asked. "He's the eldest. Lots of potential. Definitely someone to be cautious of."
"No, not him," Mr. Chaos replied without pausing.
"Then Rin Wraith? He's promising too," the man in the black robe added.
"Not him either."
Both men exchanged confused glances before asking in unison, "Then who?"
"Rem Wraith," Mr. Chaos said with a twisted grin spreading across his face.
"What?" The man in black sounded incredulous.
"I thought he was a disappointment," the man in red questioned, furrowing his brow.
"This is the problem with you people," Mr. Chaos said, his voice laced with irritation as he finished chopping the corpse. "You don't understand what it truly takes to reach real strength."
He straightened up, wiping the blood from his hands. "You have to know weakness first. Only then can you grasp what true strength really is."
"Just get to the point," the man in the red robe interrupted, leaning casually against a tree.
"Oh, let him continue," the man in the black robe protested.
Mr. Chaos chuckled softly. "Remember when I infiltrated the Wraith family? Disguised as one of their staff?"
"Yeah, you went to check on Rim's talent," the man in black replied.
"True, but..." Mr. Chaos paused, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. "I got a little bored. Decided to have some fun and made poor Rem's life... just a little harder."
"You wanted him to off himself," the man in the red robe interjected bluntly.
Mr. Chaos let out a quiet laugh, but his expression grew dark. "But he didn't." His tone suddenly shifted, becoming deadly serious.
"Instead," Mr. Chaos continued, his voice trembling slightly, "I saw something in that kid's eyes." He paused, a rare flicker of emotion crossing his face as he shook.
Both men suddenly fell silent, sensing the shift in his tone.
Then, out of nowhere, Mr. Chaos erupted into crazed laughter. "It was so full of life... yet so empty!" His laughter echoed through the trees, unsettling the quiet.
The man in the red robe broke the silence, his voice grave. "You know what that means."
Mr. Chaos's laughter died down, and his expression darkened further. "Yes," he said softly. "Rem is the key to destruction."
"The Left-hand man," the man in black finished the sentence, his voice laced with a mix of awe and dread.
"The age of destruction is about to start again!" Mr. Chaos laughs like a crazed maniac, his voice echoing with madness.
Meanwhile, Miss Old chuckles softly as she watches the scene unfold before her.
In front of her stood Rem, his hand clutching a broken wooden sword, his breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. The training dummy he had just struck was shattered into pieces, splintered beyond recognition.
As I stared at the shattered remains of the training dummy, the wooden sword in my right hand splintered in half. A sharp pain shot through my body, muscles screaming in protest for a few agonizing seconds—then, just as suddenly, the pain vanished. The dark blue flames that had engulfed me flickered out, disappearing as if they'd never been there at all.
"Did I... just do that?" I ask between labored breaths, still stunned.
"You sure did, boy," Ma'am says, a bit of laughter still in her voice.
"But how?" I ask, my mind racing for answers.
Suddenly, blood begins to trickle from my nose and ears.
"That," Ma'am says, her tone shifting to serious, "is the drawback of using your Uniqueness."
"What?" I mutter, confused, wiping at the blood with the back of my hand.
"Every Uniqueness comes with a price. Yours seems to damage your body depending on how much power you tap into."
"But... I don't feel any pain." I reply, still not fully understanding.
"That's where it gets interesting," Ma'am says, her eyes narrowing slightly. "When you came here, you were wearing a bandage on your right arm."
"Yeah, I hurt myself by mistake yesterday," I nod.
"And yet it's already healed?" Ma'am asks, raising an eyebrow.
I suddenly realize what she's implying.
"Your Uniqueness also grants you faster healing," she concludes, a small smile playing on her lips.
"So, to put it simply, your body takes damage from the inside, ripping your muscle fibers apart. But since you heal faster, it'll make it easier for you to develop muscle."
"Wait, isn't that a bit... too good?" I ask, eyebrows raised.
Ma'am shakes her head. "Nope. We don't know the limits of your healing yet, but I'm pretty sure it won't regrow limbs."
She pauses, her expression growing more thoughtful. "And we also don't know what else that dark blue flame of yours consumes. It's strange—it doesn't even feel hot."
Her gaze drifts toward the remnants of the shattered dummy as she places a hand under her chin. "But you're still at the first stage of your Uniqueness—the stage of learning."
I nod. "So, to reach the second stage, I need to understand what my Uniqueness really does."
"Exactly," Ma'am replies, studying me intently for a moment before her expression shifts.
"Okay, I've made my decision," she says, her tone suddenly resolute.
"Rem, from now on, you are my first official disciple—the first disciple of the war hero, Miss Old."
Hearing that name sends a shiver down my spine.
Miss Old... there isn't a soul alive who doesn't know that name. The war hero who could destroy mountains with a single punch.
I just stare at her, stunned.
"What?" she says, tilting her head slightly. "I came here on vacation, but then you showed up."
"But why me? Surely there are better candidates," I stammer, still in disbelief.
"Because I want to," she replies simply, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Enough with the questions. It's dinner time. As your master, your first task is to cook for me."
"Huh?"
"Don't 'huh' me—go cook!" she orders, crossing her arms. "I know damn well you can cook. Now get to it before I beat your ass."
Still confused, I slowly turn and head back toward the house, trying to process everything.
As I step inside, I glance back at Miss Old, who pulls out a small, glowing crystal, her expression unreadable.
"What the hell is this kitchen?!" I scream, surveying the barren shelves. There's nothing but meat here—barely a spice in sight. Not a single vegetable is to be found.
Guess I'll have to settle for a simple steak.
As I start cooking, a memory flashes in my mind—my mother's face. She was the embodiment of beauty. Her soft blue hair framed her delicate features, and her dark blue eyes, though often warm, held a cold reserved just for me. Her skin shimmered like porcelain, and her pink lips seemed to bloom with every smile, even if those smiles were few and far between.
There was no one in this world who could deny she was a stunning woman.
And my dad…
I realize I've never mentioned him before. In my whole life, I've only seen him three times, so there's not much to say.
Just then, Miss Old walks into the kitchen, breaking my reverie.
"Are you done, boy?" she asks, looking around.
"How the hell did you even manage to stay here?" I reply, incredulity dripping from my voice. "There are barely any spices and no vegetables—just meat everywhere!"
"Why the hell would I eat vegetables when I have meat?" Miss Old says, looking at me strangely.
…
After a long attempt to explain the importance of vegetables, she finally agrees to order some along with a few spices.
As I start preparing the food, memories of my younger days come flooding back—times when I used to cook alongside the staff. Noelle would sometimes visit, watching me with quiet admiration as I honed my cooking skills. But those days feel like a distant past now, long gone.
As she plates one steak for herself, I find myself staring at a mountain of at least twenty steaks on my plate. It's a staggering amount, but at least this time I can eat—though I still face a few challenges.
"Alright, listen up. Here's your routine for the next two months: wake up, eat, train your body, practice with your sword, and then work on your Uniqueness during all that training to understand and master it," she instructs.
"Now, go and rest," Miss Old says, turning to head to her room.
I nod and head to my room.
Looking out the window, I fix my gaze on the moon. Its soft glow bathed the forest in silver, and for a few moments, I let myself enjoy the peacefulness of the scene. The cool breeze drifted through the trees, brushing gently against my skin.
"I know you can hear me," I mutter quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
"What?" a dark voice suddenly replies in my head.
"I thought you were trying to turn me into a revenge-hungry monster, yet you helped me overcome my trauma," I respond.
"No, you've got it all wrong," it says, laughter echoing in my mind. "My only goal is to make you strong. From the moment I came into existence, that has always been my purpose."
"I see," I reply, taking in its words.
"So what's this unique bullshit? it asks.
"Unique is basically a power that evolves depending on who we are and who we become. That's the essence of it.
"There are four stages," I continue, "and each one gives us new abilities while making the previous ones stronger. Right now, we're at stage one—the stage of learning."
"Sounds lame," the voice replies.
I chuckle.
"So, have you already given up on revenge?" it asks, its tone teasing but curious.
"Hmm, not really. To be honest, I never truly wanted revenge. At that moment, I was just... lost. Sure, they all deserve punishment, but taking revenge won't make me a better person. My only goal now is to become stronger."
"Well, I don't care, as long as you get strong," it says indifferently.
"Do I get a name?" the voice asks after a pause.
I think for a moment. "You know, I've got the perfect name for you."
"You came to me when I was at my lowest. Even though you kind of tried to turn me into a revenge-driven beast, I ended up in a better place."
I smile slightly, feeling the conviction building within me. "I've decided I won't live like the pathetic man I was before. I'm going to become stronger—so strong that people will be forced to acknowledge me. They'll be forced to respect me."
"So strong that I'll never lose a fight."
I pause for a moment, letting the silence stretch out. The soft breeze continues to flow through the open window, and I glance back at the moon, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over me.
A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I speak again, my voice steady.
"Your name shall be... Ego."