At a different location, three figures draped in luminescent blue robes, their faces hidden behind intricate blue masks, stood silently. They listened intently to the eerie voice emanating from a hovering plaque etched with a triangular symbol and a single eye at its center.
"The forces from the royal capital have begun to move. Once they depart, eliminating the boy should be simple. However, if you manage to recruit him into the Illuminati organization, that would be ideal."
As the voice dissipated, a tense silence settled over the trio. For a moment, none of them moved, each processing the cryptic message. Eventually, they exchanged glances and began to discuss their next steps in hushed tones.
…
Modret had gone to bed the previous night with a heavy heart. The weight of countless thoughts pressed down on him, leaving his dreams twisted and restless. When morning came, the sun rose hastily, casting golden hues across the horizon, as if trying to rush the day forward.
Classes proceeded as they always did, filled with mundane teachings that failed to spark any interest. Nothing new was taught, and everything felt repetitive. Despite his sour mood, Modret harbored a flicker of anticipation—today, he would awaken a new ability.
He glanced up at the sky, its pale blue stretching endlessly overhead. Time moved quickly, and in the blink of an eye, the day slipped by.
Moving through the narrow alleys, Modret kept to the shadows, avoiding attention. Eventually, he arrived at the familiar slaughterhouse. The scent of blood still lingered faintly in the air, clinging to the walls and mixing with the iron tang that filled his nostrils.
In less than a few minutes, he dispatched the small creatures Xara had gathered. With a glance, he nodded and muttered with a hint of disdain, "Twelve creatures... at least better than last time."
As soon as he spoke, his surroundings shifted. In an instant, he found himself within the strange, ethereal space of the spinning roulette.
[Shadow Fragments: 47/1000]
[Roulette Spins: 1]
His gaze landed on the roulette wheel. Despite having seen it before, a sense of awe still rose within him. It shimmered with faint energy, glowing faintly in the void.
"Hopefully, I get something better this time. Maybe even an SSS-grade ability," he whispered inwardly, clutching his hands in silent prayer as the wheel began to spin.
A soft breeze stirred around him, brushing against his hair. A quiet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but deep within, a pit of nervousness remained. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, each second stretching endlessly.
The spinning slowed gradually. It skipped over a purple section, then slid past red. His pulse quickened as it neared the final segment.
White.
It stopped on white.
His breath caught in his throat. Confusion swept over him.
'White? What does that mean?'
The words on the roulette were still blurred, making it impossible to determine the grade of ability. Slowly, the glowing letters became clearer, and Modret's expression twisted as he read the result.
[Congratulations on awakening the F-grade ability: Candle Flame…]
The message echoed in his mind. A brief influx of memories followed, trickling into his consciousness like a slow leak. But his jaw clenched and his fists tightened.
"What a useless ability…" he spat bitterly.
As the roulette space dissolved, Modret's body returned to the real world, and so did his foul mood.
'Why is it that whenever someone's already feeling bad, something happens to make it worse?' he cursed internally, his thoughts a storm of frustration.
With a sudden outburst, he kicked a nearby brick, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through his leg. He welcomed it. Pain, at least, made him feel alive.
"Lord…" Xara called out uncertainly, his voice hesitant.
He had been observing Modret the whole time and noticed the moment when his master's expression changed. It was brief, but undeniable. His mood had plummeted.
'Did he remember something? Or perhaps realize something awful?' Xara wondered, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
Modret turned sharply and barked, "Go into the forest. Capture at least twenty creatures before tomorrow morning."
Without waiting for a reply, he strode away, leaving Xara rooted in place. The young man's face twisted in disbelief. A surge of resistance rose within him, but before he could speak, an overwhelming force crashed into his soul.
It felt like the sky itself had dropped upon his shoulders.
He collapsed to his knees, cold sweat dripping down his back. The invisible pressure nearly tore him apart. His body screamed in protest, yet the moment passed. Driven by fear, Xara stood up and darted into the forest, his expression pale and filled with dread.
…
The walk home did nothing to improve Modret's mood. By the time he returned, the cloud over his head had only darkened. He said nothing to his mother and ignored her welcoming smile. Without a word, he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the tap.
Steam rose gently from the water, filling the room with a comforting warmth. Stripping down, he stepped into the bathtub and sank into the soothing liquid. For a brief moment, peace settled around him.
He activated the newly awakened ability. A soft warmth gathered on his fingertip, and a flickering spark formed, dancing gently on his skin.
Modret stared at it, his expression void of emotion.
"Useless," he muttered and dipped his hand beneath the water. The flame vanished with a faint hiss, leaving behind only a vague warmth.
He leaned back and let the silence consume him. Thoughts flowed freely through his mind as the heat eased the tension in his muscles.
Dinner arrived not long after. The meal was quiet, even more so than usual. Something had changed in their once harmonious household. A subtle shift in mood lingered in the air.
While chewing on a piece of bread, Modret heard his mother's voice from beside him.
"Son, I've already sent the imperial sigil. We should receive a response in a day or two."
Modret's chest tightened. His hand trembled slightly, but he nodded and replied quietly, "Okay."
Donald narrowed his eyes, catching the reaction, but chose not to press further. Anna opened her mouth as if to speak, but then stopped herself.
'I should give him some time. He's still a child…' she sighed inwardly and resumed eating.
The rest of the dinner passed in silence. When it ended, Modret returned to his room and sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the distance.
He remained motionless for a long while.
Then, finally, he whispered, "Fairy."
A shimmer of blue light rose from his chest, swirling gently until a small figure emerged. The fairy had grown again, now about the size of an adult's fist, her wings glinting like crystal in the moonlight.
Modret gave her a brief glance of appreciation before exhaling.
"I need you to be honest. Why am I so angry?" he asked. "You can read my memories, can't you?"
The fairy floated in silence for a moment before replying.
{The truth is that you're angry at your own incompetence. Depending on others will never get you far, but you still plan to rely on them your whole life.}
Modret frowned, but didn't argue immediately.
'Not my whole life,' he thought. 'Just until I have enough power of my own…'
"You have a point. But for now, there's nothing I can do. I'm basically powerless," he admitted, sighing again.
The fairy chuckled softly.
{Didn't you awaken an S-grade ability? That ability should let you cultivate and gradually strengthen yourself. But for the last day, your growth has been stagnant. You're still lingering around the first stage of the Star Core Realm.}
"Star Core Realm?" Modret echoed, eyes lighting up with curiosity.
He straightened slightly and leaned in, eager to hear more.