Orphanage
Among the 14 children at the orphanage, Lucien was undoubtedly one of the top three most favoured. None of his siblings had ever seen the headmaster speak to him harshly. Nor had they ever noticed what kind of trials he was subjected to.
While others endured cruel trials—one child forced to kill their own pet dog, another made to starve until they could lift a boulder weighing over a ton—Lucien? No, no one had ever seen him face such ordeals.
The headmaster often assigned the children gruelling tasks, like hunting magical beasts in the mist-shrouded forest or fighting among themselves to grow stronger. Magical beasts were normal animals that had evolved through mutations, gaining the ability to use magic. They were far more intelligent and powerful than their mundane counterparts, making these tasks nearly impossible for the children to accomplish.
Yet for Lucien? The headmaster would simply instruct him to hunt down a mystical wolf hiding three kilometres deep in the forest. And before the others had even stepped out of the orphanage—barely a corridor away from the exit—Lucien would return, the wolf's severed head in his hands.
In friendly matches, when the maid announced, "You may fight!" most of the other children were knocked out before the echo of her words even faded.
If Reibar was at the bottom of the ladder, Lucien was at the very top. His silver hair and striking green eyes made him stand out, but those beautiful eyes were always shadowed with exhaustion, perpetually wrinkled as though he never slept.
If nobody talked to Reibar because he was too weak, then Lucien was avoided because he was simply too strong. Only a few dared to challenge him, and even that was rare.
So what was his secret? Extraordinary strength? Incredible speed? Absolutely not. Physically, he was no better than Reibar.
Lucien's power was something far greater—he could control time. He could stop it, rewind it, or even leap into the future.
For Lucien, these tasks were trivial—hunting magical beasts or fighting among his peers posed no real challenge. He could simply stop time, walk into the forest where the wolf resided, kill it while it was frozen, and return effortlessly.
In a duel? All he needed to do was freeze his opponent, push them out of the ring, and secure an instant win.
Yet, there was something suspicious about him.
His incredible power wasn't limitless; it came with strict conditions.
Lucien had the ability to store time—a process that required him to sacrifice his own movement while the world continued around him. During this time, his body would remain frozen, with only his mind active. The longer he stayed in that state, the more time he could store for later use. For example, by enduring a sleepless night and conserving eight hours, he could freeze time for eight hours in the future.
Rewinding time, however, came at twice the cost. With those same eight stored hours, Lucien could only go four hours into the past. Travelling into the future was even more demanding, consuming time at an even higher rate, allowing him only two hours forward for the same effort.
That was all the other children knew about him. They had heard it from the headmaster, who explicitly told them never to disturb Lucien when he entered what they called his "focus state." To them, this mysterious act of freezing his body, his eyes closed as if in deep meditation, added to the enigma surrounding him.
There were times when he disappeared from the orphanage for weeks. Whenever anyone asked the headmaster about it, the only response was a vague, "Your brother is busy with some important matters."
However, despite all of this, Lucien was nothing like the arrogant Renji. Anyone who looked at him could see that he was a boy burdened with far greater responsibilities than any child should bear. And it was true.
His ability was so unique that there were certain errands even the headmaster couldn't handle himself, tasks so critical that he entrusted them to Lucien.
Through these missions, Lucien uncovered truths far beyond what his young mind could fully comprehend—truths that weighed heavily on his fragile shoulders.
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Reibar could feel it in his gut—there was no escape from his current situation. All he could see was death inching closer. And what does he say? That he'll 'make' the headmaster undo his spell?
The thought was so absurd, so laughable, that despite being covered in blood, with ribs cracked and broken, he couldn't stop himself from chuckling.
"Ah, even laughing hurts," he thought grimly, the pain shooting through his chest.
Draven's expression twisted with rage at Reibar's reaction. Fury burned hot in his eyes as he snapped, "What's so laughable, you moron?"
"It's the absurdity," Reibar wheezed, his voice hoarse but laced with dark amusement. "If I called him, you and your pathetic magic tricks would be useless… but the problem is, I'd die too."
And that was the truth.
Draven's lips curled into a sneer. "Well, I can't kill you, but that doesn't mean you're getting off easy. As long as you're breathing, you'll suffer. Losing a few limbs shouldn't hurt too much, right?"
He raised his arm, and a large, dark sphere began to form just inches from his outstretched palm. It swirled and pulsed with dark energy, rapidly growing in size until it reached a five-meter radius.
"Fu*k me," Reibar muttered through his bloodied lips, the words slipping out instinctively.