Immortal Dread Tyrant

He was a small young child, just a child. He was supposed to make friends, play, eat, enjoy, and all more. But he was not interested in any of that. Cause he didn't have any friends, not that he didn't want to. But there was no one to make friends with. The place he lived in had no child his age or any child at all. The Unknown was the place he called home. A continent far isolated from the rest of the world. Home to uncountable numbers of high-leveled beast, dragons, drakes, wyverns, chimeras, hydras, griffins, unicorns, massive spiders, you name it, the place had no place for a child, only hunters, outlaws, runaways, or, the most common, crazies lived here. Cause there was death at every corner. All tried to make this continent habitable but to no avail. So what was he supposed to do? Talk to people thrice his age, animals, beasts, trees, rivers, stones, the shadows, or the dead? He did try all, but none talked back. None but the very last. The dead, the shadows — they talked back when he whispered. They told him about their tales, their heroism, everything. He finally had someone to talk to, but how was he supposed to know you aren't supposed to talk to the dead? He was nine when the silence started whispering. He didn't know better. How would he know it is due to his affinity to the dark and undead magic, how? How, if no one told him? His single father, a retired adventurer, didn't like him learning magic, nor did he tell him why he retired. How would he know about the world if no one told him? So his curiosity was the only thing he had. He wanted to learn magic and grow like others. More than that, he just wanted to know things. He liked death. He saw beauty in death. He smelled sweetness from blood while others repulsed, but how was he supposed to know that rotten flesh, smells? He only smelled sweetness, something that felt closer to a kin than his actual dad. A child who saw beauty where others saw death, who smiled at the scent of blood and called corpses his friends. But one day, a dying man begged him for help. The boy watched, curious. This was his first time seeing a man die, and that too so close, so slowly. He liked it. He didn't help, didn't shout for help; he just watched. But he realized, as the man moaned in agony, that death is beautiful and death is mercy — mercy for those who are in pain, those who suffer. He killed the man as he watched in fear. That moment woke something inside him. The System answered. [Fear Points +1] [System Awakened] [System Interface] Name: Lucies Servius Ierocis Lineage: Direct Descendant of the Ierocis Family Race: Human Title(s): [Forgotten Heir] [Runaway Prince] [Awakened Human] [Successor of the Primordial] [Heir of Fear] [Bloodline Progenitor] Bloodline: Immortal Dread Tyrant Magic Affinity: SSS-RANK Undead Magic Affinity, SSS-RANK Dark Magic What was all that? Lucies — no, he was not named Lucies. He was your regular Joe, Joe Mama. Why did it show he was named Lucies? Who was the Ierocis Family? What was primordial? A billion questions in his head, but the answer only one: -----------------------------------Read My Novel To Find Out-------------------------------------------- Anejamehul