The entire village was radiating with death. This, of course, was due to not a single villager being left alive. Their eyes had turned almost completely inside out, and their lips were engorged. Their veins had risen to the surface, forming a grotesque, melon-like lattice over their faces.
The cause of this deformation was most likely due to an Aspect. Still, the loss of life hadn't stopped. In the middle of the burning village, the perpetrators were being slain by one man—and one man alone. Though it couldn't be called a slaughter, no… not in the slightest.
Every time the man took one of them down, his arm was chopped off, his leg was crushed, his eyes were shot at, his entire body bombarded by nonstop fatal injuries. But he didn't stop. Rather, he just kept replacing them, over and over.
The perpetrators weren't bandits or raiders… rather, they were the guards from the Guard Guild who had finally caught his trail. The younger man he had killed in the cave that day ended up being a noble. Because of him, everyone he grew to care for here was dead.
Enraged with the loss of everything, he just slashed away. It wasn't any specific battle art—rather, it put his own body in peril, not caring for its well-being. It was the battle art of a hypocrite. Still, despite being one man, due to his Aspect, he had an overwhelming advantage.
Eventually, there was only him and one other person left in that graveyard he used to call home. A person he recognized well…
"It's been a while, hasn't it… you monster."
---
"Why… they… they didn't…"
The black-haired boy, now known as Umbra, looked at him with pity. Despite him being taller than the younger boy, it felt as if Umbra was looking down at him.
"When people are enraged, they lose reason… they lose enough reason to not even realize what they are doing at the moment, or even what has already happened."
The man—his already red hair now dripping with red—stared him down. In all honesty, he didn't even look human anymore. Half of his face was practically gone as he gulped down sobs of agony and rage, blood pouring from his mouth and making his sharp teeth look even more monstrous.
"Take a look around you… and then take a look at yourself."
The red-haired man, who had no rationality left, surprisingly followed his words. What he saw were the guards he had murdered—weak, frail, their bodies malnourished. Then he looked at his own body, which looked much the same, replaced practically in full with other parts during the battle.
"We were thinking of poisoning the fighters, in the hope that when you stole their parts you would be poisoned. But we couldn't risk that not working. So we came up with this… How does it feel? How does it feel knowing the end of your life has arrived?"
The red-haired man gave no response. Instead, he pulled his hair back and weakly tied it with a green ribbon. Grabbing one of the broken blades on the battlefield, he pointed it at Umbra.
Finally speaking, he said only one thing:
"While I was here… I lived the life of a wolf… and I will die a lowly sow… but… I won't die alone… because I'm taking you with me."
---
Both of them rushed at one another, but it didn't matter in the end. His body was far too weak now—its once-strong limbs replaced with skin and bones, his organs replaced with sickly, barely functioning ones, his essence completely depleted from overusing his Aspect.
That's why he wasn't surprised.
He wasn't surprised that the boy's sword was buried in his chest, straight through his heart.
The boy's eyes reminded him of his—the eyes of a lowly outskirt rat who only knew the sickening side of humanity. That's why he couldn't say their eyes were similar in the slightest. Because Sunny knew humanity wasn't all bad… rather, he even cherished it now. That's why he couldn't allow himself to die here.
The memories of everyone—of the villagers, the herbalists, Capitus, Talia… If he were to die here, then nobody would remember them. Nobody would remember that even an outskirt rat like him could care for others.
Their eyes locked onto each other's. Not a word was exchanged as the sword was ripped from his chest. With no strength left, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Still surrounded by fire, the boy looked down at him.
"Before she died… she was screaming for you to run. It seems like before you died, you ended up doing some good in your life."
The words echoed in his ears. In those moments, he had long forgotten what he had told her that day—he had told her he was a hero.
Reaching out his hand, he begged. He begged the gods, the soil, the flames, the bodies scattered around this graveyard he once called home. He begged for strength, just one last time. Despite being out of essence, he tried and tried to pull.
But in the end… nothing came.
He could feel his life slipping through his fingers, like sand falling through the cracks of his hand. The tears flowing from his eyes were replaced with blood due to the damage in them.
This was the end. The last thing he would see was the back of the boy who had killed him—the boy who reminded him so much of himself.
No… didn't he already tell himself?
He couldn't die here.
No matter what it took from him.
No matter what little was left.
No matter if it was the wrong choice.
No matter if he would regret it.
He reached out his hand.
The moment he did, the green ribbon from his hair came undone, flying in front of him, lining up with the back of the boy.
Using the last bit of his life, he used his Aspect once more.
It was something so unimaginably heavy it felt like he was trying to reel in the world itself with a fishing line.
Yet that fishing line turned into a green ribbon.
And he pulled.
---
On the floor was a red-haired man convulsing as if in a seizure of proportions never seen. A scream ripped from his throat before blood shot out—from his mouth, then his nose, then his eyes.
The fractured memories that now all belonged to him pieced together.
Though the man's body reacted violently, his mind was elsewhere.
That was because the man—Sunny—was in his soul sea, staring at two soul cores.
One was black, shadows wrapped tightly around it.
And the other looked like something he had seen in ring shops.
A pearl.
But his mind couldn't focus on that. His entire brain felt as if it was melting, due to multiple reasons. One was the sudden influx of information that came with the new core—including memories.
The memories of Umbra, also known as the nameless slave.