"I need to leave."
His mind swirled into an intricate chaos of burning, throbbing pain. They knew of his existence, his true form, what he truly was—and for that, he was afraid.
Passing through the filled seats, he made his way down the stairs leading outside. He stumbled past a group before making his way to a trash can, dry heaving. He was alone, away from everyone, wandering the many paths the academy provided. The academy owned a large section of land, using the lakes and pathways for students to take walks and find solace.
Madness. That was what it was, madness. His mind was human, still soft and fragile despite his ancient nature. His dimension was chaos, intertwining webs of intricate layers of deepening insanity that only those born into it could navigate. Humans could only glimpse into this universe. If they were lucky, they could sleep somewhat soundly afterward, losing only a screw or two. His human brain, fused with his true form, struggled to reconcile their conflicting natures. Even the slightest psychic prying from one of these beings hurt him, rotting his sanity. Even his well-adapted brain was not immune to human frailty.
"I just need to close off their connection."
He slowly inhaled, creating a new branch of defense in his mind.
"That should suffice for now. Now about them, they shouldn't be too far. They must be watching the tournament. Probably using camouflage or some kind of invisibility."
"Greetings."
A flat voice broke the silence.
A tall, unassuming student stood above him, watching. The man said nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes. There was no light, no spark of life in them, only an absence.
"You're like me?" Xora's voice was quiet, as if afraid someone else might hear.
"..."
Sighing, Xora sat down, leaning against the trash can. "If you're going to consume my flesh, then go ahead."
"..."
"Say something!" His voice grew agitated.
A small chuckle escaped the man, croaking like rusted metal. "I expected more from the one who killed us."
"Huh?"
"Were we really that meaningless?" The man tilted his head.
"Ah. I often ate many things in my previous life," Xora replied, brushing the comment off. Then he turned to face the man. "Are you here to kill me for revenge, then?"
"... No." The man sat on the bench next to him, gazing up at the night sky. "I want what this world offers."
Xora scoffed. "You're not going to reclaim what was once yours?"
The stranger shook his head. "I was once a fledgling, a drop in the cosmos." He looked at Xora. "An insignificant ripple in the pond compared to you. I want to experience this world for myself."
"I see. Are you as human as I am, then?"
"Perhaps. During my time here, I consumed a multitude of creatures, but mostly humans. There was an overabundance of them."
Xora sighed. "I see. Do you have the system, then? Or human emotions and needs?"
"Yes, we have the system. We are limited by it. Our potential is stifled, locked behind levels. Human emotions... I am the least emotional among us. And by needs, I assume you mean reproduction? It's harsh, locked behind this concept of 'dating,' which I still haven't cracked."
"Ah... No, that's not what I meant..." Xora looked away. "Why did you come instead of the others?"
The man stiffened. "They're... more emotional. They haven't forgotten what you did. I don't want to ruin my chance at this world, so I decided to meet you myself."
"The human? Who is the human you've taken the appearance of?"
The man was tall, pale, with white hair and brown eyes that glinted faintly purple. He wore a fancy suit and was undeniably attractive.
"Astra. His name was Astra. Born under the stars, he loved his family and dreamed of becoming an astrologer, discovering the secrets hidden beyond the veil of space. I regret killing him, so I decided to achieve his goals for him. That's why I'm here." He paused before looking at Xora. "And yours?"
"Kaelan. That was his name. He was over a hundred when I ended him. Luckily, I'm not as old as him, so that's fine. He was the hero who ended the Demon King, and—"
"The Hero!?" Astra's voice was astonished.
"Yes, yes. The hero was... well, he was impressive. For his age."
"You don't match the hero's looks during his younger years. Perhaps that's a slight mutation in your evolution. The hero in the portraits was more handsome and had a lighter hair tone than yours."
"Is that an insult?"
"Not what I meant. You're different. In a good way? I'm not sure. But different." He looked down. "I'm sure that's why no one recognizes you."
"I'm fine with that." Xora scoffed. "I don't need anyone thinking I'm that loser."
"You hate him?"
"Of course. He's the one who gave me these shitty emotions, this damn system, and, well..."
"I see. You'll get used to it. I'm sure of it," Astra said, leaning back on the bench.
"Tch. Don't need your sympathy." Xora stood up. "Also, don't pry into my head again."
Astra gave a thumbs-up. "I'll tell the others."
"Also... Is this it? You're really not going to kill me?"
"No."
"Kind of a letdown, eh?" Xora quipped before walking away.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
During his trek back, he wondered if the stands were still open. He was getting hungry, and it should still have been around four.
A few matches should have passed. Hopefully, there's something interesting.
As he ordered some fried donuts, he thought to himself: Fuck. There are others like me. They don't seem to want to harm me. Like Astra said, he doesn't want to ruin his goal or cover here. I've confirmed at least three things: there are others like me, some do not harbor ill will toward this world, and there are those who haven't taken the form of humans.
Sighing, he made it back to his spot in the arena. It had been quite a while since he left, so there were only a handful of fighters remaining. He watched as two participants battled in the middle of the field.
All he knew about them was that one was a black-haired girl wearing a blindfold. She was an executioner in training. The other was a beastfolk tribal, the son of a chieftain.
He leaned toward the person next to him and asked about the girl.
"Oh, she's the hot babe everyone's talking about!" The spectator grinned stupidly. "Like, she's from the church course or something. I think... her name is Briar."
"I... see."
Briar was intimidating, to say the least. She wielded a halberd, dulled, of course, for the battle. She used its range to poke and create wide arcs, keeping her opponent, who relied on close-range combat, at bay.
'Let me see.'
Skill activated.
⌈ NAME Briar . LEVEL: 35
CLASS: Executioner Apprentice. TITLES: The thorn.
HEALTH POINTS:800/800
STRENGTH: 40. VITALITY: 40.
AGILITY:40. DEXTERITY:40.
INTELLIGENCE:29. LUCK: 21.
MAGIC: 0. ENDURANCE: 40.
FAITH: 50. CHARISMA: 7.
What the hell?
He watched as she dominated the beastfolk in battle. Her wide-reaching attacks repeatedly chipped away at his health. Eventually, she found her rhythm, jabbing the spear end of her halberd into his torso, stunning him. Then, with precision, she drove another thrust toward his neck.
The beastfolk clutched his neck in pain, giving her the opening she needed. With a leap, she swung her weapon in a far-reaching arc, sending him flying out of the arena in a single motion. He crashed into the arena wall, where he remained embedded. Briar turned and began to walk away, her expression unchanging.
That was her original goal, but as she left, she briefly stopped, her blindfolded face tilted in Xora's direction. Then she disappeared from view.
Again, what the hell?
Eventually, they managed to extract the beastfolk from the wall as the announcer called the next match.
"Kesa Ferward vs. Abigail Torchlight!"