Stark often had this thought.
Am I destined for failure?
This young man, full of ambition, had yet to reach his thirties. He didn't always have this belief in mind while he was growing up. There was a time when he had ambitious goals and grand dreams like anyone else.
For example, one such instance was the day he was reincarnated in this novel world as the youngest child of the Okanshield Clan.
During his childhood, Stark believed that his future held great success, honor, and fame, just like his father and siblings. And he would be the protagonist of his own story.
However, stark had no talent.
For generations, members of the Okanshield Clan formed the black core by the age of 8. In the long history of the family that exceeded 500 years, there was not a single child that had failed to form a black core before turning 14.
An average Okanshield would have a yellow core by the age of 16, and would later travel the world after becoming a purple core before turning 20.
But Stark was 25 by the time he became an orange core.
Even a clown with absolutely no talent at all could accomplish this feat, as long as he put in a sufficient amount of effort.
Because they had seen Stark noteworthy efforts, his clan banished him without killing him for shaming them.
'But it wasn't that I had no talent. It wasn't that at all…'
After leaving his family, Stark was surprised to learn that he was under a strong curse that blocked most of his mana pathway.
While he was wandering aimlessly, he accidentally became a magician's disciple who dispelled the curse put on him, and within 3 years of training, he saw a rapid growth in his strength.
Even though he wouldn't become one of the strongest, at least he would have enough strength to protect himself from his clan enemies.
The greatest failure of Okanshield's history, Stark Okanshield, was no more.
Within 10 years, he would become so powerful that he wouldn't have to hide from his clan, the family that had thrown him aside. All that was left to do was to keep a low profile until then.
'Seems like I truly am destined for failure.'
Cough!
Stark spat out a mouthful of blood. He was bleeding everywhere, including his eyes, nose, and ears.
Death was looming over him.
He hadn't even had the chance to use his magic power.
A sudden rift opened, and 3 Special grade Monsters attacked the Anata Kingdom's capital out of the blue. Stark had received a fatal wound during their rampage in his sleep.
... In his fucking sleep.
A single special-grade monster could raze a city if it was given enough time. And since three of them had raided the capital city, there was nothing Stark could've done.
He couldn't even react because he had just finished training and had fallen asleep from exhaustion.
What a ridiculous death he had. He wanted to cry out in madness due to the absurdity, but all that escaped his blood-filled mouth was delirious laughter.
He was on death's door, and nobody was by his side.
Not his teacher who cared for him, not his siblings and family who had cast him aside, not a single person.
Even the being that thrust him into this world showed no response.
'Why… Why did the heavens bother giving me an opportunity just to take it away immediately?'
Just as his consciousness was about to slip away, time seemed to stop still. The screens and noise were no more, even the dust in the air seemed to freeze.
"My, my, what a pitiful sight," a voice echoed through the frozen stillness. It was a soft, melodic voice, but laced with an unsettling edge that sent shivers down Stark's spine.
Summoning every ounce of his fading strength, he turned his gaze towards the source. Before him stood a figure draped in shimmering black robes that seemed to swallow the surrounding light. Their face was obscured by a hood, but two glowing, golden eyes pierced through the shadow, observing him with an eerie mixture of amusement and pity.
"Who… are you?" Stark croaked, the blood in his throat making his voice ragged.
The figure tilted their head as if the question amused them. "Who I am is irrelevant, young Okanshield. What matters is who you are and what you desire. You're a stubborn one, aren't you? Even now, clinging to the frayed threads of life when all has been stripped away."
Stark's lips trembled as he tried to form words, but the figure raised a hand, silencing him. "Save your strength, boy. You're on the brink of death, yet fate has not abandoned you completely. Perhaps it was watching, waiting, to see what you would do. And now, it has deemed you… worthy of intervention."
With those parting words, Stark eyes lost their luster and became lifeless as his soul left his body… or so he thought.