"The flickering embers of change could only be found in a campfire full of charred coals."
— Unknown
***
The saying, 'Efforts never betray you' was arguably an absolute lie.
That's not always the case; that's just how life was meant to be—fairly unfair to everybody.
I was promised...
I was promised the betterment of the only person who never looked down on me.
I fulfilled the demands the Avernus Clan imposed on me so that my lone commoner mother would have an elevated status within the prestigious clan.
And what I meant by that—respect, simply respect that was earned.
That was all I was asking.
It's something that I only wanted for her, to be respected by the other significant figures surrounding us, and for their gazes of repulsion to at least stop.
But I guess I was naive. I didn't understand the grave difference between being a noble and a commoner.
Unfortunately, that was perhaps the reason why I continued to bow my head at their whims and unreasonable wishes.
How the pure noble's words were either full of lies or dignity, and how the commoner's freedom to live seemed to become a privilege rather than a right.
Nonetheless, before I knew it, my naive self heeded the irretractable absolute order with their apparent intention of letting me die on a battlefield.
At my coming-of-age ceremony, I, without an ounce of hesitation, was immediately sent to the Dark Plains, at the frontlines to fight alongside the mighty Vodwartch Army against the seemingly incessant rampage of the demonic beasts constantly cultivated and nurtured by the three Demon Lords of the Unholy Abyss with the grand idea and malicious intention of resurrecting the Primordial Evil.
Human blood was the nourishment of evil, after all.
At the age of fifteen, I held my first steel sword—an utter disgrace in a world where the Beastsoul was the driving power of almost everything.
At the same age, as I faced the realities new to me, where blood and cries ran fleetingly rampant, I managed to have my first blood against a mid-rank demonic beast.
However, with the delight of merely slaying one monstrosity that endlessly plague humanity, as I looked around the hellish plains dyed crimson, my eyes darkened, my heart trembled, and my mind was almost shattered into insanity.
Even as someone filled with so-called filthy commoner blood, death was something I would not want to get used to.
Rolling heads, severed limbs, bitten necks, and clawed bloody guts—I've seen it all during my first day away from my mother.
But I have no choice.
I believed in their promise.
— 'We will provide ample treatment to your mother's sickness atop of recognizing her as one of the legitimate wives of the Patriarch.'
That's why I endured it all.
I slayed monsters; beasts that couldn't be simply described aside from them being grotesque and deformed.
It was then that what I previously feared arrived.
Getting used to the sight of death.
Neglecting the cries and agonizing screams.
And...
Killing a human—or what used to be.
For five years, as far as my memories remember...
For damn long five years that had eaten away my supposed childhood life and innocence!
"Just why... Why are you doing this?!"
I screamed at the top of my lungs as a dark spiritsword pierced my abdomen.
After I returned home from my years of service based on the previous demands of the Patriarch's second wife...
After everything...
"J-just why..."
Muttering with a weak voice, as I fell on my knees, I looked at several silhouettes of prominent figures of the Dark Palace surrounding the Patriarch's second wife seated on her own throne.
And...
As I raised my gaze, I saw my mother, whose unknown sickness remained prevalent, tightly bound by spiritchains.
Hanging.
No signs of life.
Dead.
"Oh my, I never thought you'd raise your voice against me, Zil—"
With an exquisite black fan concealing half of her face, the second wife of the Avernus Patriarch halted her very own words.
It was as though putting the "Avernus" surname together with Zil's name was in itself a blasphemy.
"A pathetic bastard of the great Patriarch who couldn't even tame an unstable low-rank beast."
"Shut your damn mouth! I asked you why did you do—"
At that moment, something flew past the air, vibrating in itself.
It was a gravity sphere, pinning me down on the ground.
"Why are you mad? This is what I promised you. Fufu. Isn't getting rid of your useless mother for her betterment? So she wouldn't suffer against her sickness anymore."
"You— You bitch!"
Then, to her surprise, I resisted the conjured colorless sphere as I lunged forward without holding any weapon.
Only my hand was enough to cut her down.
Of course, I never expected that I would reach her, whose icy cold gaze depicted the desire to tear me apart.
I knew that my life was coming to an end.
But... I–I just couldn't go back down without ruining this bitch's face!
My emotions overwhelmed me, and the rationality was long gone.
In fact, only by seeing my mother... that I seem to regain a bit of flame that I lost during my time as a hardened warrior.
Whoosh!
Before I managed to reach her, the person controlling my dead mother's hovering body maneuvered it, which then blocked my path.
From the beginning, respect in this household for the likes of us was nonexistent.
I should have known.
I–I should have known!
And the moment my movement was halted, numerous dark spiritblades flew by, piercing every fiber of my being.
The warmth of my body gradually chilled, turning utterly numb.
It's getting cold.
Is this what it means to die?
Was this how my comrades felt at their last moments?
As I let out a chuckle, the Patriarch's second wife raised her body. She then slowly walked down from the lofty dais.
"Have you totally gone mad? Why aren't you crying? Why?? Why?!"
Somewhat confused, I mustered some strength to give her one last look, seeing her cold crimson eyes.
For some reason, it seemed she was expecting me to bawl my eyes out, and failing her expectations caused her to be unreasonably furious.
"Why... Why?!"
With a 'thud,' my body gradually fell, and her feet reached my eyes. But her maddened expression was now unseen.
Amidst her rage, it was only that I realized...
What kind of person did I become?
Why... Why I am not crying at the sight of my mother being hanged?
I became far too gone.
I couldn't even bear myself to shed tears. Maybe I made the wrong choice of leaving her from the beginning.
Was it because of the harsh battlefield littered with the dark side of humanity?
The place in which someone wouldn't have time to think about anything else aside from what's in front of them?
In the end, I regretted getting used to the sight of death.
In the end—
"Die, you cursed bastard."
With a gesture from the Patriarch's second wife, my head rolled on the floor.
My consciousness began fading.
I accepted my fate, someone who served yet left with nothing.
But my heart spoke.
What exactly went wrong?
My mother being of commoner birth?
My talentless younger self who remained naive and was swayed by this bitch's whims and sweet words?
Or nothing was wrong and that human nature naturally prevailed...?
That they were simply inherently evil, and we were merely collaterals of their evilness?
I don't know anymore.
If a chance... If there's another chance to correct everything...
As I muttered my heart's last desire, my worthless life finally faded away.
—Or so I thought.