"Lowell, it seems I've lost my memories since I hit my head. Could you help me recall?"
Lowell looked at me with his bright grey eyes. "Yes, master!" "Your name, do you at least remember your name?"
I shook my head. "No, nothing at all."
"Master, your name is Gabriel, Gabriel Rhodes."
"Gabriel Rhodes. Why does it sound very familiar?" I muttered.
"Wait, how old am I, and how old are you?" I turned my head to Lowell.
"Master, you're 15 years old, and I'm 14."
'Gasp!' If he's only 14, why am I the shorter one?
I couldn't help but notice his furry, dog-like ears twitching now and then.
"What are those?" I asked, pointing at them.
"Oh! These? Master, these are my ears. They are my beast ears. I'm a werebeast, a wolf hybrid."
As if Lowell noticed me looking at his eyes, he added, "My eyes—they are also part of being a werebeast. But not only that, it's because I was born in the third month, which has the blessing of the Light Monarch. They are the ones who are in charge of blessing the eleven months."
Gabriel turned his head in confusion at this point and asked, "Eleven? Weren't there supposed to be twelve months?"
Lowell hesitantly answered, fearing he had hurt his master. "Well, yes, but there was a legend that a powerful ruler born in the twelfth month dared to defy the Supreme Ruler. The last monarch, the Monarch of Death, got really angry and cursed all the people born in the twelfth month to die early and suffer throughout their lives, whether they were that ruler's descendants or not."
Lowell looked at Gabriel and clung to his leg yet again.
"But don't worry, master, that doesn't mean you will die. I will protect you, I promise."
Gabriel looked at Lowell, stuck to his leg like a leech, and tried to shake him off, but the brat wouldn't budge.
"Okay, okay, I won't die before you, I promise. Now get off my leg."
"Lowell, do you practice swordsmanship? Why are you so strong?"
As Gabriel was shaking the dust from his sleeves, he couldn't help but notice a beautiful engraving on his arm. It was that of a dragon with its wings spread as if taking flight.
In the middle, there was a letter 'F-'. Gabriel was admiring the dragon until he saw that letter.
His eyes fixated on the letter, flickered for a moment as if it had never happened.
For he knew the meaning of this letter all too well. He knew that he was once at its highest peak.
These letters signified the ranking of one.
With 'S+' being the strongest to 'F-' being the weakest. Him being the weakest.
'Haah' Gabriel couldn't help but give an annoyed sigh. Weakness of all kinds disgusted him.
Gabriel knew very well that he wasn't weak; it was this pathetic body that rarely seemed to see the sun and seemed as if it were going to break at any minute.
He instead went to Lowell. "Show me your arm."
Lowell stretched his arm and revealed a beautiful tattoo. Though it didn't have a majestic dragon, it showed a letter that pleased Gabriel to the very least 'E-'.
But still, this was pathetically weak compared to who he once was.
He felt it in his past life that he was someone you could call strong, to say the least, yet that shadow that had followed him seemed to be in leagues of its own.
"Lowell, I've noticed since earlier, although your body isn't robust, you are very strong. Do you practice swordsmanship?"
Lowell looked at Gabriel, tilting his head. "Master, how did you know?"
I looked at Lowell tilting his head. 'Now I couldn't tell him exactly I was once a master, could I?' "I just took a guess."
"Master, please sit down, you need to have something to eat first."
Lowell gestured at a rather dirty piece of cloth he seemed to call a resting place.
'Filthy' I wanted to say, though I couldn't, because Lowell might start crying again.
As I sat down, Lowell hurriedly went to serve me what seemed like tea or medicine, though to me it looked like dirty water filled with those dirty herbs.
I couldn't refute Lowell, who looked at me rather expectantly to drink it. As I drank it, my throat burned and felt itchy.
'This looks like and tastes like dirt.'
Lowell immediately grabbed the cup and took it far away from his master's sight as he knew how much his master hated it.
His master had always been rather weak. The most he could do was walk for a bit with difficulty or sit down on that same worn-out piece of cloth.
As his master had guessed, he was secretly practicing swordsmanship. Although his master had strictly forbidden him from going to any gate, he had done it anyway.