Belle Ardent
The world shimmered in shades of gray.
I tilted my head, listening to the faint rhythm of his heartbeat — slow, uneven, fading into the soft rhythm. Sebastian had finally passed out.
I wish I could say I was impressed. But I wasn't.
He was weak.
So much weaker than the others who'd come before him — the young masters of noble clans, brimming with arrogance and power, their auras polished like gemstones. They'd all come to train under me, to prove themselves. Most of them were stronger than Sebastian even before they picked up a sword.
And yet, one by one, I failed them.
I could still remember their cries when their blades snapped, the way their resolve shattered long before their bones did. They had power, but no heart. Some had both, but they still failed.
Sebastian was different. Not stronger — just… different. His presence felt strange, like a song I had once heard in a dream. Off-key. Unfamiliar. But it stayed with me, humming at the edge of my senses.
I sighed softly, lowering my sword. The air was still trembling from our clash, faint cracks that traced the outline of broken stone and scattered dust in the air. I couldn't see any of it, not with the curse still chained to my eyes, but I could feel it. I could feel him.
The world had been like this ever since that day - when the Demon King touched me.
I still remember the heat of the battlefield. The smell of burning mana, the roar of the Elven King's forest magic colliding with the Demon King's abyssal fire. And me, caught in the middle.
An SS-rank Ascendant against two SSS-rank monsters. I should've died there. Everyone thought I did.
But I didn't.
I remember the moment his claws brushed across my face."A gift," he had whispered. "See the world as I do."
And when I opened my eyes, color was gone. The light, gone. The world turned to smoke and shadow.
Still, I survived. And in this dim place, I learned to see differently. Through sound. Through mana. Through intent. The world speaks if you're quiet enough to listen.
My fingers brushed against the blindfold. I still wear it, not to hide my eyes, but to remind myself that I once saw light.
I turned back toward the boy sprawled on the floor. His breath was shallow, his aura dim but stubborn. Bruised, bleeding, half-broken… yet still clinging to life with both hands.
I crouched down beside him, reaching out, stopping just short of his forehead. His mana flickered faintly — uneven, restless, like a heartbeat out of rhythm.
Something was different about him; it shouldn't have mattered. It shouldn't have moved me at all.
And yet… something inside me stirred.
It wasn't pity. I don't feel pity. It wasn't admiration either, he was far too weak for that.
It was something else. Something I couldn't name. A faint pull, deep and quiet, like an invisible thread tugging at the edges of my chest.
Maybe that's why, when he looked up at me earlier and whispered, "Did I pass?" —I said yes.
I still don't know why.
Maybe I just wanted to see where that strange thread would lead.
I stood, brushing the dust from my clothes, the wooden sword resting lightly against my shoulder. His breathing had steadied now. Good. At least he wouldn't die tonight.
"Sleep, Sebastian," I murmured. "You passed. For now."
The words drifted out softly, lost to the dim air.
And as I turned to leave, the shadows around me shimmered faintly — not with color, not with light, but with something else entirely.
Something that felt like death.
Sebastian Nekros
My eyes cracked open to a ceiling I didn't recognize. White stone, faint blue light pulsing through veins carved into the walls. The smell of antiseptic herbs clung to the air. I groaned, shifting on the too-soft bed beneath me.
{Congratulations, Sebastian.} Bastard's voice oozed with smugness. {You survived. Barely. Though, honestly, I've seen toddlers put up a better fight against wooden spoons.}
I rubbed my forehead, wincing at the soreness in my arms. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I'll have you know I looked incredible while getting beaten half to death. Pure grace. A performance worth remembering."
{Oh yes, breathtaking. The way you vomited blood on the floor really stole the show. I'm sure Belle was deeply moved by your artistic interpretation of a dying fish.}
I smirked despite myself. "Good. That means my suffering wasn't in vain. If the strongest woman alive remembers me, even as the guy who got pummeled into a wall, then I'm already unforgettable."
{Unforgettable? More like unfixable.} Bastard snorted. {Still, you didn't run. That's… surprising. Almost admirable. Almost.}
"Please. I didn't run because I was too busy dazzling everyone with my resilience. Handsome, brave, and now battle-scarred, tell me, Bastard, is there anything I can't do?"
{Win.}
"Wrong. I just gave Belle a false sense of security. Let her think she's stronger than me. Classic strategy. I'll crush her expectations later."
{Yes, I'm sure collapsing in a puddle of your own blood was all part of your brilliant plan. A tactical masterpiece.}
"Exactly. Now you're catching on." I stretched, wincing as pain lanced through my ribs. My whole body screamed at me to stay down, but my ego didn't let me. "Pain is temporary. Glory is eternal."
{You weren't glorious. You were pitiful. A flailing twig being snapped over and over.}
"Wrong again. I was… a beautiful tragedy. Like a fallen star." I paused. "A very handsome, charismatic, charming fallen star."
{More like a fallen idiot.}
I rolled my eyes and flopped back onto the pillow, letting the ache settle. "Details. I'll win next time. Probably. Maybe. Definitely."
{Yes, keep lying to yourself. It builds character.}
Before Bastard could fire back another insult, the air above me shimmered. My body froze. I blinked. My heart skipped.
A system prompt.