Life had never been smooth sailing for me.
I was abandoned in the slums at birth, left to die, until an old man, moved by pity, took me in.
My childhood was spent begging on the streets, running errands for the "big guns" of the slums, and fighting to survive.
Yet even in that harsh life, I dreamed of something simple, a life where I wouldn't have to bow my head, a life where I could live as I pleased.
And for that dream to come true, I knew I had to become strong.
Stronger than anyone.
"Never let anyone decide what your place is. In the great story of Roy, everyone else is a mob and nothing more."
That was what the old man who raised me used to say.
Pretty big words for a beggar and a failed writer.
But maybe it was his influence that fueled my desire to become great.
When the old man died, I took what little money he left and set out on my own.
The world was dying, and there was more need for hunters than for warriors.
So I became a hunter, and I worked harder than anyone.
My life settled into a relentless rhythm: learn, hunt, fail… then learn again, hunt again, and fail better.
But I never gave up.
With my A-rank talent, I was eventually recruited into the Ashford Mercenary Group.
It wasn't a large company, just a band of orphans and outcasts, people with nowhere else to go.
And among them, I finally felt something I'd never known before. Belonging.
It hadn't started that way, of course. At first, I was a loner who cared only about eating, sleeping, and hunting.
Everything changed when I met Laura.
She was a runaway, a bastard child the leader had taken in for her sword talent.
For some reason, I found myself drawn to her.
Maybe it was admiration for her strength, or maybe I was just young, and she was one of the few who made me feel like I mattered.
"Life's too short to spend just hunting," she once told me.
"Whenever I look at you, I see my past self, a bird trapped in a cage. So I'll make sure you see the beauty of life and freedom."
I'd thought her words were hypocritical at the time.
Not everyone was the same, after all.
Yet maybe there was some truth in them.
Maybe that's why I started to open up more, talk to the others, laugh with them.
Life became lighter. Warmer.
And I often wondered why I'd never felt that way before.
Days turned into months, and months into years.
I grew closer to the group.
But most of all, my bond with Laura changed.
At some point, I began to develop feelings for her.
I knew what they were, but I never confessed.
I didn't need to, because Laura never saw me that way.
To her, I was only a younger brother. Nothing more.
I tried to bridge that gap, but it was hopeless.
Eventually, I learned why.
Laura already had feelings for someone else.
The leader.
Of course, it was him, strong, handsome, kind.
Everything I wasn't, and could never be.
All those fantasies I'd built were just in my head.
To her, I was just another piece of the team.
That betrayal broke me, yet I swallowed it down.
I was foolish.
In the comfort of my new life, I had forgotten my goal.
But the world reminded me again, and for that, I was grateful.
So I distanced myself. Slowly, quietly.
I got over her.
I buried those feelings and returned to my goal.
And I realized something, she was nothing special.
Because if there's one thing life has taught me, it's that nothing lasts forever.
Not Laura.
Not friendship.
Not even family.
People were kind to me, yes, but only because I was strong.
If I had been weak, would they have stood by my side?
Would Laura have ever reached out her hand to me?
The answer was no.
Strength, that was the only reason I mattered.
Love. Friendship. Family.
They were beautiful things to cherish, but only if you had the power to protect them.
Power, the one thing that never betrayed, never faded.
Only power was absolute.
So I threw myself into training like a madman. Days and nights bled together in endless toil.
I didn't cut ties completely. I still laughed and ate with my comrades, still played my part.
But behind every smile, every nod, there was a mask.
The same mask everyone wore.
A mask of fake expressions.
Behind it, I stayed alert, ready for the inevitable betrayal that could come from any of them.
Maybe I was afraid that if I ever showed weakness, they'd take advantage of it.
My training eventually paid off, and one day I achieved the rank of Master, a feat only a rare few ever reached.
But even then, I wasn't satisfied.
The world was vast, there were Grandmasters, Saints, Apotheons, even mythical Eternals.
I was just a slightly bigger fish in an endless sea.
So I wanted more.
As an A-rank Master, I had already touched the limits of my mana core. But I hungered for more.
Craving power beyond reach, I attempted a breakthrough to S-rank using an external medium.
And I failed.
I bought an SS-rank mana core from an old woman in the black market.
Though I knew the chances of success were slim, my hunger clouded my judgment.
When I tried to resonate the core with my body, it spiraled out of control, nearly destroying my own core.
Though I absorbed fragments of its power, the attempt left my mana core fractured, crippling me for life.
It was the most foolish decision I ever made, one that cost me everything.
The power I thought was absolute slipped through my fingers like sand.
For days, I wrestled with questions that never had answers.
What had I done wrong? Was it impatience? Arrogance?
I didn't know.
I stabilized my fractured core as best I could and returned to hunting.
Even though I could never regain my former strength, I resolved to live.
As long as I kept living, I believed the answers would eventually come.
That was the old man's final lesson, perhaps the only one that truly mattered.
Years passed quietly.
Then one day, Robert came to me, asking me to join a small exploration team.
I agreed. I had nothing better to do.
But during the expedition, a space rift appeared out of nowhere, dragging us all into a dead zone.
And now here I was, lying on cold ground, half my body crystallized.
Of all the ways I thought I'd die, I never imagined this.
'I suppose this is better,' I thought.
'Let's hope I make more crystals than Robert.'
The sun set across the crystal mountains, painting the jagged horizon in shades of gold and crimson.
Light scattered through the transparent spires, shimmering like glass.
Crystal flakes drifted softly from the sky, turning the battlefield into something almost… beautiful.
'This… is so slow.'
Amidst that fading beauty, I sighed and took a book from my subspace.
[Curse of Crown]
'What better way to die than reading a book?'
Maybe I was crazy to read at death's door, but who cared?
This wasn't a world for normal people anyway.
Slowly, I flipped through the pages, lying face down on the ground.
'Let's see… Cale Tenebris? What is this? A new chapter?'
A chapter I didn't remember reading appeared before me.
'Did I grab the wrong book?'
I tilted the cover to check, but it was the same book.
'Am I hallucinating?... Whatever.'
I kept reading.
Slowly, crystals began to creep across my face, covering my only working eye.
'Wow… this is actually good.'
Within minutes, I lost my vision.
And a few minutes later, I finally lost my consciousness.