"Master!" Cain exclaimed, "Why do you always defend this coward?!"
"Elder brother!" Doyle spoke in a threatening voice, "Watch your tone when you speak to the master."
The air suddenly palpitated with intensity, and the momentary silence was suffocating. At the eye of the storm, Lucien gently shook his head before faintly chuckling.
His light chuckles spread across the hall, garnering everyone's attention.
"Little Cain, you climbed this mountain seven years ago," he said in a ridiculing voice, "Back then, you were an innocent and ignorant brat, weak and pathetic. After seven years, you've shed that innocence, so why are you still so ignorant, weak, and pathetic?"
"Y-You!"
Cain couldn't restrain himself any longer, shooting up to his feet in a flash.
However, the aged man lightly sighed.
His single exhale of air contained a mysterious power that manifested as a dark energy, which pinned Cain down.
"Cain, because of your temper, you have the most potential of my disciples; however, it is also because of this temper, you are the most worrisome one as well."
"Doyle, carry your elder brother to the chamber of reflection," the aged master said with a deep sigh.
Respectfully bowing his head, Doyle stood up and grabbed Cain's arm before dragging him out of the hall.
The master and eldest disciple remained seated in silence, observing the departing two. But just as they were about to exit, Lucien expressed his thoughts for Cain's sore ears.
"You continue to scorn me for not descending the mountain, but what about you?"
He scowled, "Are you scared? Is it that you know how weak you are? Why don't you just descend the mountain and bring glory to the master's name?"
The mysterious power continued to suppress Cain's body; however, it was obvious that the rage he felt was pure. His body trembled in resistance to this power, but no matter how he tried, his attempts remained futile.
Upon their departure, the aged master turned to his eldest disciple and released a deep sigh once more.
"As you grow older, you tend to sigh more deeply, and more regularly as well." Lucien's expressionless face seemed to come alive as a brilliant smile spread across...
Truthfully, it was really draining to act all emotionless, but teasing those junior brothers was really the only joy he could unearth from this damnable place.
By now, it had become so habitual that he did not know another way.
Savoring on another's suffering was scummy, but it was something Lucien had enjoyed in his last life, and it was something that he enjoyed in this one as well.
That boy who had his mother plucked before his very own eyes had cried, but it was those teary eyes that had brought a chuckle to his lips.
Morally, it was disgusting, but he did not care.
"Really? I don't even realize when I sigh," the aged master uttered with a sigh.
He said with meaning, "Most of my hardships begin with a grandson like you. Why are you so mischievous?"
"How many years now, and yet you still maintain this cold and detached persona in front of those two brats. Is it really that difficult to shower them with love and raise them with care?"
"You're almost eighteen, much less in these times, back then, you would be of legal age to get married and start a family."
Lucien raised his hand and interjected.
"Old man, when you start rambling, you don't stop. Firstly, it's weird when my ancestor refers to me as grandson. Aren't you more like my great, great, great, great grandfather?"
"Anyways, your method of raising children is why my father, and my father's father, and the rest of them, tracing back to you, have all died out by now."
"They're all too soft."
"In this world, if you're already lacking talent, you should at least have a robust mind."
The face of the old ancestor darkened, but he did not retort. Instead, he said with a sigh, "You've always been like this, even as a toddler, you were different."
"Before the world became a mess, there was a saying that all geniuses were a little weird. Raising you, I kind of understand now," the old ancestor showed an ugly smile, a reminiscent smile.
He continued, "But Cain is right as well. My life is coming to an end, and I have nothing more to impart to you. It makes no sense for you to hide in this mountain."
"You have the potential to easily surpass my prime," pausing, the old ancestor's eyes conveyed a myriad of emotions, "Maybe, the hope of this Demon Vanquishing Region rests in you, but you can only actualize this by plundering the home of those Fiends and clearing the battlefield in the land of ruin."
Lucien was dazed.
What was all this nonsense he was saying?
This old man had really gone senile.
'Ay, what the old man says might be true, yeah, but that's if it was someone else who had reborn as his progeny,' He thought, and internally shook his head.
Seventeen years had gone by, but the trauma he suffered from his unusually unlucky death still haunted him.
There was no way in any reality that he, Lucien, would easily descend this damnable mountain and step into a much more dangerous world than the last one.
With his luck, who knew what kind of horrors he'd suffer?
There were mirrors in this world, and there was a Hell, and Fiendish creatures, aka, demons.
This world was more advanced than the Earth he came from.
Here, the current year was 2363, and the human race had triumphed over the first phase of the apocalypse.
More importantly, with mirrors existing, he could see his appearance.
He was the very epitome of an emo-looking, flower boy!
One must understand that this world lacked the order of the world he came from, and even in his old world, the order was constantly curbed to the will of those who were powerful, or simply by those who were willing enough.
More than that, Fiendish creatures existed as well.
In this world, coupled with his luck, a fate more humiliating than death was very possible, and death was even more possible.
Suffering was a guarantee.
He, Lucien, would, under no circumstance, like some fictional protagonist, descend this damnable mountain unprovoked.
He scoffed at the old ancestor's words, "I think you're growing more senile by the day. The region's hope? Bro, are you restarted?"
The aged master was not offended by his disciple's rudeness.
Instead, he silently observed his progeny.
His lips curled into a faint smile, "You were born with greater intelligence than others, you are sometimes possessed to use slang from back then, and you have greater talent than anyone I've come across... and I've come across saint prospects."
"Either I'm really senile, or my grandson is some heaven's chosen."
Lucien pursed his lips and plainly said, "You're close to death, so I think it's the former."
.....
Seventeen years ago, Lucien found himself awakening to a new world.
Initially, he thought he had been reborn into a foreign world; however, as he grew up, he concluded that there was a possibility that this was, in all actuality, Earth, but three hundred and some years in the future.
He had died in the year 2036, and according to the history of this earth, it was that same year that the apocalypse descended.
All kinds of phenomena occurred across the world, one of which was a torrential rain of lightning, something that had killed him.
It was safe to say that he had died on the same night of the apocalypse.
Thereafter, gates that led to a new world appeared, teeming with creatures of Hell later referred to as Fiends.
They emerged from these gates and brought death and despair in waves...
For the following years, humanity's numbers continuously plummeted, and that era, spanning twenty-seven years, was later known as the Hellish Era.
Currently, the second phase of the apocalypse had begun.
The human race and the Fiends battle perpetually, with more and more gates leading to Hell appearing every year.
Though the human race had stabilized compared to the Hellish Era, the situation wasn't great three hundred years later.
Although this was the case, Lucien had no intention of helping out.
This was no fantasy world that he had been transported to by a ROB, but the same old Earth that he had died on over three hundred years ago.
At least, until this master died, he had no intention of seeking out his own misfortune and suffering by descending the mountain and stepping out in the open.
At the end of the day, he was but a glorified, bottom-of-the-barrel, insignificant character.
The next morning, Cain exited the chamber of reflection.
The three disciples and the old master gathered for breakfast, and once more, the master and the eldest disciple simply folded their legs and assumed meditative postures whilst the younger two ate to their heart's contentment.
At the end of this meal, Cain suddenly mentioned, "Master, I'll be descending the mountain today."