It was a rainy day; the sky was relentless. I could hear through the door leading to the patio the sound of water droplets hitting the ground and the vibration running through the wood from the force of the raindrops. I could sense from the breeze that it was night; I could feel the cold wooden floor with my legs crossed in position. A sensation of calm coursed through my body; the cold touch of the wind soothed my thoughts and delighted my mind. I breathed softly, taking in and releasing air little by little. No one is here, in this cruel country of Arzobia where the strong rule and the weak perish crushed. After being cursed by a dark mage, I was left completely blind. My family, exhausted from caring for me in my frail state, decided to leave me alone in this infinite darkness. I was locked away, trying to escape this world, yet all I saw was solitude.
When I was assigned as a temporary professor at Laris Academy, I was merely hoping to get through my service. It was a disastrous place full of proud, corrupt leaders and deranged students. Still, why? Why did I have to be so stupid as to risk my life saving strangers? No one would have judged me if I had fled; everything was lost. During the dark mage's invasion of the academy, destruction was imminent. A servant of the demon king and one of the thirteen seats of the underworld, Armiciel—I faced him with my back trembling in fear and my posture hunched. All I could feel was the cruel chill of death lurking in every step he took. Yet I roared with my sword raised high, glowing with crimson aura, fulfilling my duty as a knight to protect others. I had always believed it was so; I was born strong to save others, so I had to protect them. Grave mistake—not a single day passes that I don't regret it.
To the dark mage, I was nothing more than an amusing toy. He toyed with the idea that I would survive by fighting and that I could be honorable even in death. I thought I was winning; every step I took and every sword strike brought me closer to cornering him. My breathing grew impatient, my movements hasty, and my heart pounded with the hope of later glory. But in a moment of carelessness, my eyes were ripped away with terrifying ease. I still remember the sensation of darkness enveloping my eyes, burning them from within. I screamed, even if it would shred my throat, just to end my pain, but it was useless. The feeling of burned skin and the agony tore through my head, preventing me from getting up. "That was quite interesting; I even forgot to eliminate the creatures," his voice dripped with implicit mockery. He didn't speak from respect, only irony, as if nothing mattered, nothing could touch or hurt him. I could feel the heavy air around him from the dark magic; before losing my sight, I could see a dark mist surrounding him. His red eyes burned through my skin; it was the gaze of a hunter aiming to annihilate its prey.
He walked with calm steps toward where I lay. "Since you've been such an interesting toy, I'll let you live. You should be grateful; you're the first I've granted this privilege." His mocking voice filled the air, coming from all directions and provoking an indescribable sense of helplessness. I clenched my teeth tightly while the pain still consumed me; my head faltered momentarily, trying to fall into unconsciousness, but my mind refused—I refused. I couldn't allow myself to lose. I stood up with gritted teeth, blood seeping from them, filling my mouth with an iron taste. I could feel the blood flowing down my cheeks like a soft cry, but I didn't feel weak. The sound of my armor creaking echoed in the empty space. "Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet." I spoke with fire bursting from my lips, burning my body and heating my blood—this was the determination of a warrior. The smell of burning still flooded my nostrils; fear still made my grip unsteady. Yet I held my stance, planting my right foot while keeping my left behind. I was going to give it everything in this strike. "Do you really think you'll beat me without eyes?" If I had eyes, I could swear I'd be grinning with a fierce smile at that moment.
This mage wasn't ordinary; he had been consumed by the fire of battle. Once a court mage among the top twenty, he let himself be swayed by the honeyed words of the demon king, consumed by dark power, becoming what he is now. "No, it's a certainty. I will defeat you." I smiled, knowing the impact my words would have on the mage. I could hear the sound of his dark magic stirring like a beehive disturbed by movement. The smell of the ground signaled war; black magic was heavy and forbidden, with a rotten egg stench, slithering like a snake. I braced myself on the ground; even without sight, my enhanced senses betrayed the mage's position. I could even feel the beating of his undead heart, artificially moved with a machine-like screech. "Hahaha," he laughed as if every word of mine was out of place. He believed himself invincible, thinking nothing could defeat him. That's how all my opponents had fallen before me—my combat instructor, even the best knight—all defeated by my sword. They all thought I couldn't win. A chill settled in my heart, one that precedes a calculated and measured act.
In a second, the ground exploded; the scorched earth was crushed like clay, leaving a crater. The dark magic surged, seeking to pierce my vital points. I gripped the hilt of my sword tightly, clashing my weapon against the hard darkness with agile, precise movements. Each strike sent shockwaves rippling through the place. I lowered my center of gravity and advanced; the dark blades rushing toward me from all directions were deflected with soft blows, redirecting their paths to crash into the scorched ground. With every step, the power in my legs grew. I was focused solely on my goal, pushing the pain to another plane. Faster, faster—clenching my teeth—just a little more. My hollow eye sockets were fully closed; if anyone saw me, they'd think I was asleep, my features completely relaxed as if in deep slumber. I tensed my muscles methodically, relaxing and contracting them to advance as fast as possible. "Impossible," was all Armiciel could murmur before my sword sliced through the hard shield of dark magic he used to protect himself. The tension on the blade's edge from the clash made the sword screech, flinging off small pieces of hot iron.
More, faster—do it for all those who thought you were nobody, for those who underestimated you, for those who will die if you fail. I held the sword with both hands as the crimson aura formed a lance. The smell of burning flooded the pain; I gripped the ground beneath me to propel forward. The earth under my feet was torn up, and my trembling hold on the iron hilt was losing strength. "Is that all you can do?" Little by little, I lost momentum while the barrier remained as strong as ever. The thick layer of dark magic slowly dissolved until only a small piece remained, sticking firmly to the blade and preventing me from moving my sword. "Still, I must admit that for a moment you scared me. I don't understand how you can be stronger now than when you had your sight." His voice was laden with calm; he wasn't on a battlefield but in a playground. I could sense it from my experience—for him, entering Laris was no challenge, not even a mission, just a game.
I stayed silent, awaiting my end while clenching tightly in hopes of freeing my sword from the barrier. "I think I've been lucky; without a doubt, you're the greatest threat to the demon king." Those words sealed my fate. Yet I felt the afternoon sun falling softly while the cold intensified more and more. What have I accomplished? Nothing, despite training so hard. I won't even become captain. The cold clouded my mind; I let out a snort. "This is not the end, dark mage. We will rise to defeat you. The knights will rise; you will never fulfill your desires of destruction. All that awaits you at the end of that path of betrayal you've walked is cold death, where no one will mourn your passing. You will only be remembered as another villain. That's how your life will end." I declared firmly, as I was accustomed to as a knight—words of justice I had given countless times against enemies.
Silence flooded the place; the black magic around me crept closer slowly, like a predator hunting defenseless prey. "You have quite a bit of faith in your people. Know that I will spare your life if you join us; I'll even heal your eyes. What do you think?" I stayed silent. For a second, I weighed the idea, but quickly regained my senses. I could feel the dark intentions of the mage in every word; it was simple pride—he wanted to see me defeated, my ideals that I had fought so hard to maintain destroyed. I remained silent, firm in my decision. "…" The next moment, my entire body was pierced with small needles. Slowly, blood escaped from every orifice. Yet I was conscious; the cutting pain hadn't pierced my vital organs, but the black magic slowly coursed through my body, burning it from within. For the first time in my life, I felt the need to die. I shattered my teeth from the suffering; I wanted to hold my body, wanted someone to heal my pain. But I lay on the cold ground, feeling my blood drain away. Gradually, I lost consciousness, and when I awoke, everything was over.
Instead of being celebrated as a hero, I faced the hateful glares of my family, who could only criticize me for allowing a massacre at the academy. I had done my best to stop him; the other professors had stayed on the sidelines, fighting from safe spots or fleeing with the students. Not only that—I earned the hatred of Arzobia and the emperor. Not even a thank you for ending up in such a bad state after the battle. My body was battered, with wounds from the hundreds of needles refusing to heal due to the forbidden power. I could feel the blood trying to leave my body at night sometimes. The only reason I was still alive was my excellent physique as a knight, but sooner or later I would die from exhaustion and blood loss, as the cleric had reminded me hundreds of times. Now, my only purpose in life was to die quietly and alone. Before, I had a promising future; now I have solitude and isolation. I touched the cold floor with pain—a pain that gnawed at my head. Yet I couldn't stop feeling it. [query]