An ache throbbed deep in his skull, threatening to split his head in two as he finally regained consciousness.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as though he had been in a long, dreamless slumber—one that had briefly erased all the misfortunes that had befallen him, without warning or even the faintest hint of foreshadowing.
He pushed himself up from the ground, his palms brushing against the rough, cold surface of stone.
His eyes widened as a chill from the stone seemed to awaken a torrent of terrifying realizations, draining the color from his face.
He scrambled to his feet, but the sudden motion sent a sharp pang through his head, causing him to stagger.
Before him loomed iron bars, their darkened, metallic visage separating him from the oppressive void of the narrow corridor beyond.
He spun around, his gaze catching the sight of a small, ragged bed blackened with dirt and age.
Something was wrong.
'A prison?'
What was he doing in a prison?
Auren lurched forward, gripping the cold iron bars as panic overtook him.
"Is anyone there?" he shouted.
His voice echoed through the emptiness, traveling deeper into the unknown—or perhaps outwardly? He couldn't tell. No response came.
His sword was gone. So was the fine black silk suit he had worn. In their place were a tattered white inner shirt and black trousers. Even his shoes had been taken.
Disbelief painted his expression as he glanced down at himself.
Once again, he gripped the bars, his voice more urgent this time.
"Sentries! I need to speak to someone! My father! My brother! Relisé!"
The words rang out, bouncing back as faint echoes. Silence was the only reply.
Auren sighed heavily, his strength giving way as he collapsed onto the filthy bed he'd previously recoiled from.
He no longer cared. He needed to think. What could have gone so wrong? How had this happened? More importantly, how could he reach his father—or at least Relisé?
His eyes glimmered with a flicker of determination as he stared at the iron bars.
'I've been blessed now, haven't I?' His thoughts stumbled for a moment. 'Or cursed… Whatever damned thing it is, it should make me stronger. That means I can get out of here.'
Clenching his fists, Auren spent a tense moment calculating the force it might take to bend the bars.
'Physical strength won't be enough… but my skill might…'
He tightened his fists, closed his eyes, and waited. He monitored his senses, hoping for a spark of something new.
Suddenly, his eyes shot open. His hand darted forward, blurring through the air as he struck the iron bar.
A metallic clang rang through the darkness like a hollow cry, followed by a hoarse, guttural yelp.
Auren staggered back, clutching his bent hand in agony. He tried to suppress the sound of his pain but failed.
It hurt more than he imagined.
"Damn it. Where's the skill? Even if it's cursed, Archon-damned, it better be useful!"
He slumped onto the bed, cradling his bruised and discolored wrist. The iron bar hadn't even bent.
His resolve faltered as he stared at his injured hand. The swelling spread, turning his wrist a sickly purple.
He couldn't give up. There had to be another way.
"I can't afford to break anything else. My head's a mess as it is."
With a defeated sigh, Auren leaned back against the wall, muttering to himself.
"I guess I'll just have to wait it out…"
***
Time slipped away. His hollow stomach grumbled, and his throat became unbearably dry.
Then, faint footsteps reached his ears. At first distant, they steadily grew closer. His heart leapt with hope.
'Finally, someone I can talk to.'
Two sentries emerged from the shadows, their golden armor gleaming and pushing the darkness back.
Auren's hopeful expression darkened the moment he saw them. Something felt off, just like before.
One of the sentries opened the cell door. Auren stepped back cautiously and spoke, his voice calm but firm:
"Before you open that door, bring my father. He's Baryster Don Veyne. He's surely looking for me."
"Shut up, kid!" one of the sentries snapped.
The door creaked open, and a sentry stepped inside. But before he could react, Auren leaped back on the wall and propelled himself off, driving his knee into the visor of the armored man.
The sentry crumpled to the ground. Auren turned to face the second one, already closing in.
As the man lunged, Auren ducked, slipping between his legs and rolling out into the corridor. His body slammed into the opposite wall, but he pushed through the pain and sprang to his feet, bolting into the shadows.
Sadly his legs couldn't carry him fast enough. Despite their size, the sentries were unnervingly quick.
A sudden force yanked him back. Auren felt the grip of a hand on his arm before he was slammed into the wall.
Blood streamed from his nose as he peeled himself off the cold stone.
"This cursed brat!" the second sentry snarled before driving a fist into Auren's stomach.
The blow was devastating. Pain surged through him, leaving him gasping for breath as blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
Weakened, Auren collapsed to his knees. The sentries grabbed him by the arms and dragged him forward.
***
Blinding light pierced his vision as they emerged into the open. His ears were met with a cacophony of shouting voices.
"Kill him!"
"He must not be allowed to live!"
"The Archons have abandoned the Veyne Dukedom. They deserve to burn!"
Auren's foggy mind sharpened as the words registered.
He opened his eyes, staring at the massive crowd below the podium. Rotten egg, tomatoes, garlics and seething hatred rained down on him.
The jeers struck harder than any of the rotten tomatoes.
'What did I do?' he thought, his lips parting in innocent confusion.
No answer came.
"Kill him!"
"He's a heretic!"
Tears welled in Auren's eyes.
'I see now…'
He scanned the crowd, desperately searching for his father.
But deep down, he already knew the truth.
Baryster Don Veyne was a cold man, driven by ambition.
If Auren had become useless—an abomination—he would cast him aside without hesitation.
His brother? Ezryn could do nothing. And Relisé? She was only a maid.
Auren let out a soft chuckle, tears streaming down his face.
"How unlucky of me…" he muttered.
Above him loomed a guillotine. Beside it, a man clad in pitch-black armor with a scarred face raised his voice.
"The abomination, Duke Baryster's bastard, shall now be executed!"
Auren closed his eyes as the blade fell.
***
[Conditions have been met.]
[You have died by execution.]
[Unique Cursed Skill Devourer has been unlocked.]
[You have devoured death.]
[Commencing Resurrection…]